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BIRTHDAY GIFT : 


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CONSISTING or 


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RIGINAL POEMS 


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ORIGINAL AND SELECTED PROSE, 




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MRS. HARRIOT S. ARNOLD, 


WALPOLE, Mass. 



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DEDHAM: 

PRINTED BY H. A. MANN, HIGH ST. 

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, 

By HARRIOT S. ARNOLD, 

1 n the Clerk'* Office of the District Court of the District of 
Massachusetts. 

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PREFACE. 


In preparing this little volume for the public, 1 
have endeavored by introducing as much variety as 
possible, to suit the tastes of its various readers. 
The young and middle aged will find subjects, it is 
hoped, calculated to interest them ; while the aged 
will peruse with interest, the sketch of that ingeni- 
ous but unfortunate mechanic, Eleazar Smith. 


Go forth, my little book and breathe 
Sweet words of love and truth ; 
And may thy pages pleasure give, 
To age 'hs well as youth. 


Harriot S. Arnold; 







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CONTENTS. 


Birthdays, 9 

The Guide, 10 

Little Eva, 12 

The Child and the Fireflies, 13 

To a Friend in Heaven, 15 

Live for Something, . 16 

A beautiful Illustration, 16 

On presenting a Nosegay, 18 

To my Friend, 18 

The Book of Nature, 18 

A Beautiful Comparison, 20 

Beading, 21 

The Drooping Flower 21 

I Love to Muse, 23 

True Words, 23 

On the Death of Little Ella, 24 

Eulogy on Webster, 25 

Talents always Transcendant, 26 

The Weary Heart, 27 


Vi CONTEXTS. 

Poverty is no Disgrace, 28 

The American Flag, .* 30 

The Open Countenance, 33 

The Language of Flowers, * 33 

Temperance, 34 

To a Bird, 38 

Labor, 39 

Nay, Speak no 111, 41 

My Childhood’s Home, 42 

Home Affections, 45 

The Wanderer’s Song, 47 

The Dying Daughter to her Mother, 48 

I see a Light — I’m almost Home, 49 

The Twilight Hour, 51 

Beautiful Thought, .. . 52 

Wishes, 53 

Love, 54 

Every Thing around us, 56 

Intellectual and Moral Power, 57 

I saw a Beauteous Maiden, 58 

A New Year’s Hymn 60 

Husbands and Wives, 61 

Autumnal Thoughts,. 63 


CONTENTS. 


The Mother's Appeal, 

A Word to the Rich and Poor, 

The Stars, 

Vulgarity of Life 

Little Kindness, 

Self-Examination, 

To a Departed Friend,.' 

Departed Friends, 

Guardian Angels, 

Flow on. thou little Brook, Flow on, . 

Pretty T aouglit, 

No Time to Read, 

The Mot! ler’s Farewell 

I The Em; )ty Cradle, 

Female Beauty, 

The Human Heart, 

The Art of Thinking, 

A Thought, 

To Emelin e, 

One F 


:iend, 

A Vagfary, 

Friendship, 

I love the Spring, . 


VU1 


CONTENTS. 


Beautiful Passages, 91 

A Twilight Thought, 93 

The Stranger’s Grave, 94 

The Mourning Sister, 96 

A Sister's Love 97 

The Naiad of the Lake, 99 

The Widow, 101 

The Sneerer, 102 

The Child’s last Request, 103 

My Home, * 104 

Passing Away, 105 

Memory of the Past Year, 106 

O, Everything is Beautiful, 108 

Acquire Information, 108 

Lines on the Death of Abby S — 110 

Another Child in Heaven, 112 

Lines, • 113 

Those Gentle Words, 114 

Gentle Words, 115 

To 117 

A Mother’s Love, 118 

Sad was the Day, 119 

Sketch of the Life of Eleazar Smith, 1.21 


BIRTHDAY GIRT. 


BIRTH DAY S . 

Our birthdays are like milestones, 
Scattered the road along ; 

That we sometimes may backward look, 
And see how far we’ve gone. 

Our life is like a volume small, 

And years chapters denote ; 

The lines, they are the stream of time, 
Down which we daily float. 

And much that’s merry, much that’s sad. 

The little book contains ! 

There’s multitudes of vexing cares, 

And many joys and pains. 

When’er we reach a chapter’s end, 
Should always make a pause ; 

With serious mind, deeply reflect, 

On every word and clause. 

2 


10 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


And if we find that we have err 'd, 
And who is there that’s not ? 

Commence anew, and harder strive, 

To do more as we ought. 

If we our time have idly spent, 

Or uselessly employed ; 

Or have received with thankless heart, 
The blessings we’ve enjoyed. 

On each birthday may we resolve 
To better act our part, 

And bear within through weal or wo, 
A good and faithful heart. 


THE GUIDE. 

A traveler had a long and dangerous journey to 
make over a rugged, rocky mountain, and was not 
acquainted with the road. He therefore inquired of 
one who .he heard had traveled over the same road. 
This man described to him very precisely and accu- 
rately the right way, as well as all the by-paths and 
precipices which he must avoid, and the rocky 
heights which he must climb. And the better to aid 
him, he gave him a map, on which everything was 
marked out with mathematical precision. 


BIUTHDAY GIFT. 


11 


,The traveler laid all well to heart, and at every 
post of his progress, and every by-way, he recalled 
the directions, and carefully examined the map of 
his friend. So he went on his way expeditiously ; 
but the farther he advanced, the higher did the rocks 
tower, and the road seemed to lose itself in the deso- 
late, dreary cliffs. 

Then his courage failed ; he looked up anxiously 
to the grey, high-jutting rocks, and exclaimed : “ It 
is impossible for a mortal to travel over so rugged a 
way, and to climb this steep ascent ; — eagle’s wings, 
and the feet of the chamois, are needed for it !” 

Already he looked back and thought of the way 
which he had come, when a voice called to him: — 
f‘ Take courage, and follow me !” When he turned 
about, to his great joy he beheld before him the form 
of the man who had described to him the way, whom 
he saw quietly and securely wending his way among 
cliffs, and precipices, and rushing mountain torrents. 
This gave him confidence, and he followed on after 
the other with equal spirit and expedition. Be- 
fore evening they had ascended the mountain, and 
a lovely valley, where myrtles and pomegranates 
bloomed, received them at the end of the journey. 

The glad traveler thanked his guide, and said : — 
“ How shall I repay thee ? Thou hast not only di- 
rected me into the right way, but hast also given ms 
strength and courage to travel it.” 


12 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


The other replied : “O, no ! am not I a pilgrim like 
yourself ? And are you not the same you -were r— ; 
You have only learned from me -what you are, and 
of what you are capable.” — Krummacher. 


LITTLE EYA. 

Inscribed to the readers of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. 

Let all the people come to me 
Good little Eva said ; 

I wish to bid them all farewell, 

Ere I rest with the dead. 

I love them all, there is not one 
Whose bliss I e’re would mar, 

For though Our Father made them black, 
His children still they are. 

A little ringlet of my hair 
Shall give them all to keep, 

That they may sometimes think of me, 
When in the grave I sleep. 

Sweet little child, thy days are o’er, 

Thy life on earth was short, 

Though few thy years, the wisest men 
By thee well may be taught. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


13 . 


For thou did’st love the injured slave, 

And o’er their wrongs did grieve, 

Did all a feeble child could do, 

Their sorrows to relieve. 

Did’st win the love of all around, 

By thy sweet, gentle ways, 

A guardian star to “Uncle Tom,” 

None speak but in thy praise. 

Thou could’ st subdue wild, “ Topsy’s ” will 
With thy kind, loving voice, 

Though heedless of another’s wish,, 

To please thee, did rejoice. 

Thou wert too good, Evangeline, ’ 

— An angel from thy birth — 

Too good, too pure to long remain 
On this polluted earth. 


THE CHILD AND THE FIRE FLIES. 

The dimness of twilight fell upon a white cottago 
and its enclosure of trees and flowering shrubs. As 
the darkness increased, fire flies came and swarmed 
in the air, — a shower of living jewels. 

“ O, how pretty !” cried a little blue-eyed girl 
rushing from the cottage and spreading out her 


11 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


small apron to capture the glittering insects. Two 
or three were imprisoned ; and seating herself upon 
the soft grass beneath the high boughs, she carefully 
inspected her booty. Suddenly, her sunny face be- 
came clouded with disappointment ; and throwing 
the dull-brown creatures from her with disgust, she 
exclaimed, “They are not pretty any more !” 

“ Ah ! my little one !” said her mother, “ this is 
but a symbol of the more bitter disappointments that 
await you in life. Pleasures will flutter temptingly 
around your path ; but you will grasp them but to 
fling them from you, and cry, * They are beautiful 
no more !’ But, see, dearest, your released fire flies, 
beautiful only upon the wing, sparkling now a3 
gladly as ever. Such are the enjoyments of earth. 
Learn neither to despise them, nor to look to them 
for satisfying happiness. Pleeting and illusive as' 
they are, they often illumine the darkness of our 
mortal pilgrimage, and poiijit our immortal yearnings 
to Paradise for the perfection of bliss . — Family Read- 
ing. 



BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


16 


P. ■ J f 

TO A FRIEND IN HEAVEN. 

Thou art gone to the spirit land, 

We would not wish thee here ; 

We would not have thee leave the band 
Of ransom’d spirits there. 

Thou art gone to the spirit land, 

But we in dreams behold 

Thee back again among our band, 

As was thy wont of old. 

Not long thou hast before us gone, 

We soon shall follow thee, 

Where ne’er is heard the mourner’s song, 
And grief shall never be. 

And when we thee once more do greet, 
Upon that blissful* shore ; 

How joyful it will be to meet, 

Where partings are no more. 



16 


BIRTEDAY GIFT. 




LIVE POE SOMETHING. || 

Thousands of men breathe, move and live — pass 1 
off the stage ot life, and are heard of no more. "Why? | 
They did not partake of .the good of the world, and j 
none were blessed by them ; none could point to 1 
them as their redemption ; not a line they wrote, 1 
not a word they spoke, could be recalled, and so J 
they perished ; their light went out in darkness, and* 
they were not remembered more than the insects of 1 
yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O man imlj* 
mortal ? — Live for something. Do good, and leave ] 
behind you a monument of virtue, that the storms* 
of time can never destroy. Write your name by j 
kindness, love, and mercy on the hearts of thousands i 
you come in contact with year by year, and you nev- \ 
er will be forgotten. No, your name, your deeds i 
will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind, as j 
the stars on the brow of evening* Good deeds 1 
will shine as brightly on the earth as the stars of 
heaven.^Dr. Chalmers. 


A BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATION.! 

“ A florist will tell you that if you paint the flow- ’ 
erpot that contains a favorite, beautiful, fragrant < 
flower, the plant will wither, and perhaps its blosKl 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


17 


sorns will die. You shut out the air and moisture 
from passing through the earth to the roots, and 
your plant itself is poisonous. Just so, mere exter- 
nal cultivation, superficial, worldly accomplishment, 
or a too exclusive anxiety and regard for that, in- 
jures the soul. The vase may be ever so beautifully 
ornamented, but if you deny the water of life to 
the flower, it must die. And there are kinds of 
ornamental accomplishments, the very process of 
which is as deleterious to the life of the soul, as the 
paint upon the flowerpot is precarious to the plant ; 
whose delicate leaves not only inhale a poisonous 
atmosphere during your process of rendering the ex- 
terior more tasteful, but the whole earth is dried 
and devoid of nourishments. Nature never paints, 
but all her forms of loveliness are a growth, a native 
character, possession, and development, from the be- 
ginning. If the sun can ever be called a painter, it 
is only because the plants absorb his rays and re- 
ceive them into the very texture and life of their 
vegetatiofl. So, whatever is real knowledge, wis- 
dom, principle, character, and life in education, is a 
process of the absorption and development of truth, 
and i3 mere painting.” 




3 


IS 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


ON PRESENTING A NOSEGAY. 

O, take these simple flowers, 

My friend so fond and true, 

I’ve strayed o’er hill and over lea, 

To gather them for you. 

And take this lovely rosebud, 

And twine it in your hair, 

And may your brow be aye as pure, 

As lovely, and as fair. 


TO MY FRIEND. 

I would that thou might ever be 

The blithe, gay one which now we see ; 
I would stern care might never trace 
One line upon thy bright young face. 


THE BOOK OF NATURE. 

The book of nature, dear I prize, 
Ceaseless interest it supplies. 

The sportive brook the laughing rill, 
The valley green, the craggy hill ; 

The forest with its stately trees, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


19 


Gently waving in the breeze, 

The cataract with its deafening roar, 

The waves which lash the rock-bound shore, 

i 

The fierce whirlwind, and tempest wild, 

Speak words sublime to nature’s child. 

The thunder’s fearful, crashing sound 

That rends the sky, and shakes the ground, 

The lightning’s piercing, vivid glare, 

Natures wondrous works declare ; 

The rainbow with its varied light, 

Cannot fail to charm the sight. 

Each spear of grass, and floweret bright, 

To me impart a dear delight ; 

The sky so blue, the balmy air, 

And nature’s minstrels every where . 


On mountain top I love to stand, 

And trace the wonders of her hand, 
Or, sit me down in some sweet glen, 

Far from the busy haunts of men, 
And nature’s book read o’er and o’er, 
And each dark, hidden truth explore, 
Every shrub on hill or lea, 

Every bird and every bee, 

Every worm and creeping thing, 

Some improving thoughts can bring. 


20 


BIRTHDAY GIPT. 


In every object, if inclined, 

Some thing to admire can find, 

The morning with its golden rays, 

The noontide’s mild, or sultry blaze, 

The setting sun, the calm twilight, 

And e’en the darksome shades of night. 
The gems which deck the azure skies, 

.Bid many pleasing thoughts arise, 

In cold and heat, in light and shade, 

Dame Nature well her part hath played, 
In every clime, and every age, 

Let every one, read nature’s page. 


A BEAUTIFUL COMPARISON. 

We do not wonder that leaves and trees, and 
boughs, have ever been the material, whereof poets 
have manufactured comparisons and imagery . 

One of the most beautiful we ever remember to 
have seen, was by Dr Checver. “See that tree,” said 
he, “full-leaved, and swelling up into the blue, calm, 
summer air ! Not a breath is stiring, and yet how 
it waves and rocks in the sunshine. Its shadows are 
flung lavishly around it ; birds sit and sing in its 
branches,, and cliildren seek refuge beneath them. 
Human affections are the leaves, the foliage of our 
being — they catch every breath, and in the burden 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


21 


and heat of the day, they make music and motion 
in a sultry world. Stripped of that foliage, how un- 
sightly is human nature. Like that same tree it 
stands, with bare and shivering arms, tossing despair- 
ingly to Heaven — a glorious fluttering of life and 
warmth before ; an iron, harp for the minstrelsy of 
the wildest winds now . — Chicago Journal. 


Reading. — Pope, in his old age, said : “As much 
company as I have kept, and as much as I love it, I 
love rea'ding better. I would rather be employed 
in reading, than in the most agreeable conversa- 
tion.” 


* What is contentment ? The philosophy of life 
and the principal ingredient in the cup of happiness ; 
a commodity that is undervalued in consequence of 
the very low price at which it can be obtained.” 


THE DROOPING FLOWER. 

A floweret grew on a mossy bank, 

Its form was drooping low, 

The brilliant light of its eyes was dim. 
No perfumes from it flow. 


22 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


For the sun’s -warm beams had shed their light 
Upon the floweret’s head, 

And blighted all its beauty bright, 

And dried its humble bed. 

A cloud passed by, the raindrops fell 
The mossy bank upon ; 

The light returned to the floweret’s eye, 
Bright as a rose newborn. 

That flower is like a drooping heart, 

Crushed by a weight of ■woe, 

With none around to share a part, 

Or friendliness to show. 

And like the genial shower that fell 
Upon that floweret’s head, 

So are the tears of sympathy 
O’er the afflicted shed. 

They can revive, when nought beside 
Can mitigate the pain ; 

Restore the lustre to the eye, 

And bid it bloom again. 




BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


23 


I LOVE TO MUSE. 

I love to muse in the lone church yard, 

And among the graves to roam ; 

For I know, as I gaze on the grassy mounds, 
The weary have found a home. 

Do your spirits linger departed ones, 

Around your friends below ? 

Do you guard us as we wander over, 

Lifes various scenes of woe ? 

Guardian spirit ! linger near me, 

Suffer not my feet to stray 

From the path that Jesus pointed, 

As the strait and narrow way. 


TRUE WORDS. 

When a man of sense, no matter how humble his 
origin, or degraded his occupation may appear in the 
eyes of the vain and foppish, is treated with con- 
tempt, he will soon forget it ; but he will be sure to 
put forth the energies of his mind to raise him above 
those who look down in scorn upon him. By shun- 
ning the mechanic, we exert an influence derogatory 
to honest labor, and make it unfashionable for young 


24 


BIRTHDAY GIl-’T. 


men to learn trades, or labor for a support. Did 
our young women realize that for all they possess 
they are indebted to the mechanic, it would be their 
desire to elevate him, and to encourage his visits to 
their society, while they would treat with scorn, the 
lazy, -the fashionable, the sponger, and the well dress- 
ed pauper. On looking back a few years, our most 
fastidious ladies can trace their genealogy from some 
humble mechanics, who perhaps, in their day were 
sneered at by the proud and foolish, while their 
grandmothers gladly received them to their bosoms. 
— John Neal. 


ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE ELLA. 

$ Farewell dear child, we’ve laid thee low, 
Within the silent grave ; 

It was thy Father bid thee go, 

He taketh what He gave. 

’Tis hard dear one to say farewell, 

’Tis hard to give thee up ; 

liut He will give us strength to bear, 
Who gave the bitter cup. 

We had hoped for many a year, 

To us she would be spared ; 

She was too good on earth to stay, 

Our love too largely shared. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


25 


We had ourselves almost forgot, 

That life is but a day ; 

"While sanguine schemes for her we plann’d, 
Death snatched her quick away. 

A treasure now we have on high, 

In mansions bright and fair ; 

The gold that this whole earth contains, 
With it may riot compare. 


EULOGY ON WEBSTER. 

He’s gone ! he’s gone ! our Webster’s gone, 
Of whom we were so proud ; 

While friends and kindred mourn their loss, 
A nation mourns aloud. 

For who will now fill up the gap, 

That he has left behind ; 

Stand in the place he used to stand, 

With the same lofty mind. 

The north and south, the east and west; 

Unite to sound his praise, 

Who was so mighty in his mind, 

So noble in his ways. 


2G 


BIllTIIDAY GIFT. 


Well may our country mourn tlie loss 
Of such a giant mind, 

For many years may pass away, 

Ere she its equal find. 


TALENTS ALWAYS ASCENDANT. 

Talents, which are before the public, have nothing 
to dread, either from the jealous pride of power, or 
from the transient misrejiresentations of party spleen; 
or envy. In spite of opposition from any cause, 
their buoyant spirits will lift them to their proper 
grade. He who possesses the great and vigorous 
stamina which entitles him to a niche in the temple 
of glory, has no reason to dread the ultimate result ; 
however slow his progress may be, he will, in the 
end most indubitably receive that distinction. While 
the rest, “the swallows of science,” the butterflies of 
genius, may flutter for their spring ; but they will 
soon pass away, and be remembered no more. No 
enterprising man, therefore, and least of all, the tru- 
ly great man, has reason to droop or repine, at any 
efforts which he may suppose to be made with the 
view to depress him. Let, then, the tempest of en- 
vy or of malice howl around him. Ilis genius will 
consecrate him ; and any attempt to extinguish that 
will be as unavailing as 'would a human effort to 
“quench the stars.” — Wirt. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


27 


THE WEARY HEART. 

In life’s young morn, bright was my way, 

I knew not then a sorrowing day ; 

My heart was light, and blithe, and free, 

As ever heart could wish to be — 

But years have passed and with them brought, 
The burden which I ne’er have sought, 

A weary heart. 

Oh, I would seek some quiet spot, 

To lie me down and be forgot 
By all the world ! No, never more 
They’ll think of me — for I am poor, 

Ah, poverty ! there’s none can tell, * 

Save those alone who feel thy spell, 

Thy blighting pow’r. 

Yet I may live to know the hour 
When grief and want will lose their power ; 
Again as happy days may see, 

As those of old were wont to be. 

If so, then let me ne’er forget 
The cold disdain, that I have met 

From those around , 


28 


BIRTHDAY GIFT, 


And when I see a stricken heart, 
Bowed down in grief, may I impart 
My warmest aid— on it bestow 
That holy love I ne’er may know, 
Great God ! teach me resigned to be 
To whate’er fate’s in store for me, 

In future years. 


P OVERT Y 


IS NO DISGRACE. 


I am poor. The fact at times saddens me ; but I 
cheer up when I think that every situation in life 
has its joys, as well as sorrows, — its consolations as 
well as its discomforts. Of one thing I am certain ; 
I have the majority on my side. I am not alone 
even in poverty, — I have company, thinking the 
same thoughts, overwhelmed with like anxieties and 
tending towards the same goal in the great race of 
life. 

Again ; though poor, my occupation is an honest 
one. I till the ground, — I commune with nature. — 
Instead of the tumult of the city, as my constant 
music, I hear the gentle waterfall, rolling along in 
its gladness. Instead of being brought in daily con- 
tact with the passions of men, I hold converse with 
nature. By toil I earn my bread. My sleep is sweet, 
—my home is the abode of joy. I have no anxiety 


BIllTHDAY GIFT 


29 


pibout my property, for I have none. The changes 
in the money marts of the world, I pass by, — I heed 
' them not. 

A noble independence is mine — I can look out 
upon this great babel of a world, a calm and candid 
spectator. 

I shall not toil for paltry self merely ; I ask only 
a competence, — I shall obtain it 

I sympathise with the poor over the world In 
the tumult of Revolution, I see my brethren rising 
f up till they shall gain a noble independence ; and 
1 when they shall have assumed the responsibilities 
J of self-government, I hope that they will retire to 
' their homes to enjoy the fruit of their labors. J love 
to look out quietly and securely upon the world, 
and see the light loopaing higher and higher, thro’ 
j regions of darkness, and shedding its gladsome and 
| joyous rays over men. I hope that it will not be the 
j precursor of ambition and bloodshed. 

But I am getting away from myself, and my sub- 
ject. Young men hear my counsel. In choosing 
the occupation of your life, select one which will 
' afford you the most comfort and independence. — 

I You may strive after riches ; but you will cultivate 
! I fear, some very unworthy traits of character, if you 
j make riches your great object of lilb. The glory of 
| life is usefulness A trait which no money can buy 


30 


BIRTHDAY GIRT. 


— no office emolument furnish. Yes, poverty is no 
disgrace. I mean independent of vice and crime. — 
Eighteen hundred years since, a pure and holy mes- 
senger came to the earth ; no home afforded him a 
glad shelter. The delicacy and refinement of his 
feelings, found no response in those of his brethren J 
lie had no shelter for his head. The wealth of the 
world was his ; but he laid it aside, — goodness 
beamed from his eye, — words of sweetness and joy 
dropped from his lips. Ilis pathway was a wake of 
golden light — usefulness and good crowned every 
act of his youth and manhood ; yet he was poor — 
He repined not, and why should I ? I will harbor 
no bad thoughts, I will press steadily onward in the 
path of duty. I Avill cultivate my heart, I will give 
dignity and example to all my calling, and wait the 
result . — Boston Culti vator. 


THE AMERICAN EL AG. 
American flag, escutcheon proud, 
Proclaim the gift of freedom aloud ; 

O’er every hill, through every dell, 

The tidings of our freedom tell. 

Waving banner, glorious sight, 

With crimson stripes and stars so bright, 
Proclaims a land of freedom sweet, 
Where nations all in peace may meet. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


31 


Freedom of speech, freedom of pen* 
Religious freedom for all men ; 

Wave, wave thou banner, proudly wave 
O’er the land of the free and brave. 

Hark ! hear I net wails of despair 
’Neath the folds of this banner fair ? 

Can it be in this land of light, 

That any grope in. darksome night ? 

That the voice of the injured slave 
Is heard in the land of the free and brave ? 
That we sanction a system like this, 
Depriving a brother of freedom’s bliss ? 

That fathers, mothers, children dear, 

Are articles of traffic here ? 

Like cattle they are bought and sold 
And suffer misery untold ! 

In ignorance and sorrow reared, 

And all their noble feelings seared 
By lash and rod and servile fear, 

And torn from those they hold most dear. 

While we our banners bear on high 
And shouts of freedom rend the sky ; 

We bind their fetters fast and strong, 

Then joyous sing sweet freedom’s song, 


32 


imtTHDAY GIFT. 


O America ! ’tis a shame 

Thy banner bears so foul a stain j 

The stain all nations plainly see, 

They mark our inconsistency. 

Tear ye not at some future clay, 

An avenging hand will wrench away 
The banner ye so so proudly bear, 

In answer to the slave’s wild prayer, 

Three millions of God's children bound; 
In a land boasting of freedom found ; 
Thus, thus it cannot always be, 

The fettered must and will be free. 

Men of the North ! Strain every nerve; 
Thei namei of freemen to deserve ; 

That the foul stain be wiped away, 

Act well your part without delay. 

Ye Southern men, e’re ’tis to late, 

Banish the curse from every State ; 

Let the flag of liberty wave 
Where all are free as well brave. 



BIRTHDAY GIRT. 


33 


THE OPEN COUNTENANCE. 

Give us the open, frank, full, and vividly marked 
countenance, which bespeaks a cheerful, ingenuous, 
energetic and manly soul within, that despises sel- 
fishness, ingratitude, and meanness ; a soul that 
loves its kind, and sympathises with their joys and 
sorrows ; a soul ever ' assiduous for the extension of 
human attainments ; a soul full of a lofty genius, 
and a noble moral energy,, ready for every good word 
and work. In fine, a cheerful and enterprising spirit 
to advance mankind in all that ennobles human 
character, and fits man for peace on earth, and joy 
in heaven. "VVe like this plain index to the soul. 
Family Reading. 


THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 

The fair lily is an image of holy innocence ; the 
purple rose a figure of unfelt love ; faith is represent- 
ed to us in the blue passion flower ; hope beams forth 
from the evergreen, peace from the olive branch, im- 
mortality from immortelle ; the cares of life are rep- 
resented by the rosemary, the victory of the spirit 
by the palm ; modesty by the blue, fragrant violet ; 
compassion by the ivy ; tenderness by the myrtle } 


o 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


u 

affectionate reminiscence by the forget-me-not ; natu- 
ral honesty and fidelity by the oak leaf, unassuming - 
ness by the corn flower, (the' cyane,) and the auric- 
ulous, “how friendly they look upon with child- 
like eyes.” Even the dispositions of the Jyhman souj 
are expressed by flowers. Thus,, silent grief is por- 
trayed by the sweeping willow, sadness bv die angeli- 
ca, shuddering’ by the aspen, melancholy by cypress, 
desire of meeting again by the starwort ; the night 
smelling rocket is a figure of life, as it stands on the 
frontiers between light and darkness. Thus nature 
by these flowers, seems to betoken her loving sympa- 
thy vdtli us, and whom hath she not often more con- 
soled than heartless and voiceless men are able to do. 
— Family Reading. 


The circumstances which induced the writing of 
the following most touching and thrilling lines are 
as follows : — A young lady in New York was in the 
habit of writing for the Philadelphia Ledger, on the 
subject of Temperance. Her writing was so full of 
pathos, and evinced such deep emotion of soul, that 
a friend of hers accused her of being a maniac on 
the subject of temperance ; — whereupon she wrote 
the following lines : 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


“ Go feel what I have felt, 

Go bear what I have borne — 

Sink ’neath the blow a father dealt 
And the cold world’s proud scorn : 

Then suffer on from year to year — 

*. Thy sole relief the scorching tear. 

Go kneel as I have knelt, 

Implore, beseech and pray — 

Strive the besotted heart to melt, 

The downward course to stay, 

Be dashed with bitter curse aside, 

Your prayers burlesqued, your tears defied. 

Go weep as I have wept 
O’er a loved father’s fall — 

See every promised blessing swept — 
Youth’s sweetness turned to gall — 

Life’s fading flowers strewed all the way — 
That brought me up to woman’s day. 

Go see what I have seen, 

Behold the strong man bowed — 

With gnashing teeth — lips bathed in blood 
And cold and livid brow ; 

Go catch his withering glance, and see 
There mirrored, his soul’s misery. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Go to thy mother’s side, 

And her crush’d bosom cheer ; 

Thy own deep anguish hide ; 

Wipe from her cheek the bitter tear ; 
Mark her worn frame 'and wither’d brow — 
The gray that streaks her dark hair now — 
With fading frame and trembling limb : 

And trace the ruin back to him 
Whose plighted faith, in early youth,. 
Promis’d eternal love and truth, 

But w r ho, forsworn, hath yielded up 
That promise to the cursed cup ; 

And led her down, through love and light, 
And all that made her prospects bright ; 

And chained her there, ’mid want and strife — 
That lowly thing, a drunkard’s wife — 

And stamp’d on childhood’s brow so mild, 
That withering blight, the drunkard’s child l 

Go hear, and feel, and see, and know, 

All that my soul hath felt and known ; 

Then look upon the wine cup’s glow, 

See if its beauty can atone — 

Think if its flavor you will try ! 

When all proclaim, ’tis drink and die ! 

Tell me I Hate the bowl — 

Hate is a feeble word, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


37 


I Loathe— ABHOR — my very soul 
With strong disgust is stirred — 

When I see, or hear, or tell, 

Of the dark BEVERAGE OF HELL !” 


'if- 

" The richest endowments of the mind are tem- 
perance, prudence, and fortitude ; prudence is a 
universal virtue which enters into- the' composition 
of the rest, and where that is not present, fortitude 
loses its name and nature.” 


“ If men praise your efforts, suspect their judg' 
ment ; if they censure you, your own.” 


** Genius will never be neglected by the public 
unless it neglects itself; it must not disdain the 
humble alliance of industry. How ean we expect 
encouragement, unless its existenc^ in bo mani- 
fested by performances ? The surest evidence of suf 
perior talent is, that it forces itself into notice in 
spite of adverse circumstances, but it makes a road 
where it finds none.” 


38 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


“Do not wait for extraordinary opportunities for 
good actions, but make use of common situations. 
A long continued walk is better than a short 
flight.” 


TO A BIRD. 

Come, sing to me thou songster bright, 

A sweet melodious lay ; 

Thy lively notes my heart delight, 

They chase sad thoughts away. 

O sing to me of skies away, 

Of flowerets bright and fair, 

Of woods and dells, magnolias gay, 

What did’ st thou bright bird there? 

Did’ st sing, perhaps, to some gay one, 

Who nought of sorrow knew, 

Whose eyes like thine most brightly shone, 
Whose heart beat fond and true. 

Did’st bid her not anticipate 
O’ermuch of .earthly bliss, 

Nor murmur at a different fate, 

For a fickle world is this. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


39 


Perhaps did sing to some lone heart, 

By sorrow deep oppressed, 

Did’ st bid all grief from it depart, 

And cheered spirits depressed. 

A happy lot is thine, sweet bird, 

To please the grave and gay ; 

We often, with a single word, 

Offend by what we say. 

While thou can’st warble loud and clear 
Thy notes the live long day, 

Reprove or praise all those who hear 
Are pleased with thee alway. 

O, listen to me now, bright bird, » 

One moment longer stay ; 

Come, let thy notes again be heard, 

O sing a joyful lay. 


LABOR. 

& / V. i • 

I _see the man who scorns honest labor* Who 
clothes him with fine linen, and bids him fare sump- 
tuously every day r On his back is the fleece of the 
peasant’s sheep, sheered by the peasant’s strong hand 


40 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


whitened in the clear flow of the mountain stream, 
and spun by hands, if not as white, more true -and 
stainless than the queen’s ! Not a rag of all that 
curiously wrought colored and fashioned gear, which 
defends him from the keen frost, the scorch of sum- 
mer, and gives him grace in the eye of beauty — not 
a single rag is there, but rises up in judgment and 
gives him back scorn for scorn. Fool and drone ! 
He has mistaken the true altitude of man-— the 
heart-beat of the great universe itself. Annul that 
labor which he scorns, and he stands amid these ele- 
ments of nature nude as when born. The polish- 
ed hide which has felt the busy touch of many 
hands, over which eyes have tired and hearts grown 
faint, crumbles from his shiftless feet-— the bright 
"fair cloth in its thousand forms vanishes from his 
shrinking limbs— and the great inheritance of brick 
and mortar, and broad fruitful lands, sprung from 
the brain of genius and the hand of toil, and be- 
queathed to that miserable belier of humanity by 
hard, honest thrift, fly back into their wilderness 
being, and the proud fool-occupant stands posses- 
sionless and alone ! Who now will minister to his 
wants, who kindle ever on the rudest cabin -hearth 
a fire to stay the pitiless finger of the storm r All- 
charitable nature moulds not herself into palaces 
and ingots, and slaves rise not at the beck of impe- 
rious will. Ah, thou man who scornest honest 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


41 


labor, look around and see that there is yet some 
dignity and beauty in toil. That she has compassed 
some oceans, bridged rivers, delved in mines, and 
founded empires and practical religions in defiance 
of thy taunt. Her giant will is busied with loftier 
thought than scorning thee as thou deservest ! Let 
her reproof and thy scourge be that thou art con- 
temned by God and man. By God who scorned 
not to build for himself a universe, and clothe him- 
self about with angels and hovering glories— by 
man, proud of his power to exalt the image and 
imitate the example of God . — Carlos D. Stuart. 


Pnay, SPEAK NO ILL. 

Nay, speak no ill ; — for why should ye 
Who are youselves so frail, 

So quickly blights in others see, 

And swift report the tale. 

What though some one has slightly erred, 
Thy censure still command ; 

Restrain thy tongue, speak no ill word, 
Till in his place you stand. 

6 


42 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Nay, speak no ill ; — this plan pursue, 
Although much ill you know, 

To speak of all the best you can, 

Nor e’en ill thoughts allow ; 

Less serenely think ye’ll sleep 
For having checked the word 
Which from thy tongue did almost leap, 
When some slight fault occured ? 

Nay, speak no ill. Our Saviour said 
That ye should unto others do, 

As you would like placed in their stead, 
To have them do to you ; 

If strict obeyed were this command, 
’Twould effect a change divine ; 

And reputations firmly stand, 

That slanders undermine ! 


MY CHILDHOOD’S HOME. 

My thoughts revert to a sweet nook 
Beside a little purling brook, 

Beneath the shade of lofty trees, 

Where gently sighs the evening breeze ; 
And softly falls the vernal showers 
Upon the wild and vine wreathed bowers, 


/ 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


43 


Where many pleasant strolls I’ve took 
When nature wore her sweetest look, 

And the fair moon’s effulgent ray 
Had turned night’s darkness into day ; 

Oh, how each bright and twinkling star 
Glistened from the sky afar, 

When singing birds had sought repose, 

And dewey tears bedecked the rose. 

Haunt of my childhood ! happy place, 

Where oft I used to sit and trace 
The rambling thoughts that through my mind 
Were wont to flow, and egress find 
Upon the page of some choice book 
I slily hid in that same nook ; 

There freely flowed my every thought, 

Just as my -wayward fancy taught. 

0 yes ; I was most happy — when, 

All ignorant of life and men, 

1 thought no ill — was always glad, 

And never dreamed of being sad, 

But thought to laugh and dance and sing, 

For aye, as then, a happy thing ; 

And fancied life one holiday, 

Nor thought ’twould ever pass away. 

My mates with whom I used to play, 

The friends I loved, oK, where are they > 


44 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


The stream of time has swept along, 

And borne them down its tide so strong ; 
Upon life’s ocean they have been tossed, 
And many in its tide are lost ; 

And some have roamed to distant lands, 
We miss them in our social bands ; 

And some within the church yard lie, 
And o’er their graves the willows sigh. 

Dearly I love oft times to roam 
To the dear place that was my home, 
Long years ago, when, but a child, 

They called me strange, so rude and wild. 
And sit again in the dear nook ; 

To me it wears a sweeter look 
Than any hall or mansion fair, 

Because I was so happy there. 

From memory’s page I would not blot 
One moment spent in that sweet spot. 

I would I were from guile as free, 

As strange and wild again would be, 

As when I roamed among the flowers 
And danced away my happy hours. 

I would I were a child again ! 

Alas ! the wish is all in vain, 

Far in the past, with shadows crowned 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


45 


I view those days, and hear a sound, 
A gentle murmuring in my ear, 

That bids me cheek the rising tear ; 
Seek cheerfully my part to bear, 

And look to God in earnest prayer, 
And He will grant me peace and bliss, 
Holier, and purer happiness — 

A heavenly home, ecstatic joy, 

No shade of earth can e’er alloy, 
Where pealing anthems ever swell, 
And ne’er is heard the word farewell. 


HOME AEFECTIONS. 

The heart has memories that never die. The 
rough rubs of the world cannot obliterate them. — 
They are memories of home — early home. There 
is a magic in the very sound. There is the old tree 
under which the light hearted boy swung many a 
day ; yonder the river in which he learned to sw'im ; 
there the house in which he knew a parent’s protec- 
tion ; nay, there is the room in which he romped 
with brother and sister, long since, alas ! laid in the 
grave in which he must soon be gathered, over- 
shadowed by yon old church, whither, with a joy- 
ous troop like himself, he has often followed his pa- 


46 


35IUTHDAY GIFT. 


rents to worship with, and hear the good old man 
who ministered at the alter. Why, even the very 
school house, associated in youthful days with 
thoughts of tasks now comes to bring pleasant re- 
membrances of many occasions that call forth some 
generous exhibitions of the noble traits of the hu- 
man nature. There is where he learned to feel 
some of his first emotions. There, perchance, he* 
first met the being who, by her love and tenderness 
and life, has made a home for himself, happier even 
than that which his childhood knew. There are 
certain feelings of humanity, and those too, among 
the best, that can find an appropriate place for their 
exercise only by one’s own fireside. There is pri- 
vacy of that which it was a species of desecration 
to violate. He who seeks wantonly to invade it is 
neither more or less than a villian; and, hence, 
there exists no surer test of the debasement of 
morals in a community, than the disposition to tol- 
erate, in any mode, the man who invades the sanc- 
tity of private life. In the turmoil of the world let 
there be at least one spot where the poor man may 
find affections and confidence which is not likely to 
be abused. — Dr. Hatches. 



BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


47 


THE WANDERER'S SONG. 

I am pining in sadness, 

Eor thee, my loved home ; 

My heart knows no gladness, 

Since from thee I did roam. 

The birds here are singing 
Sweet, melodious strains, 

And the gay flowers are springing 
On the hills and the plains. 

But the birds and the flowers ! 

They are all strange to me ; 

Oh, I long for the bowers 
Beyond the wide, wide sea. 

O, when shall I return 
To thee, my native clime ; 

Eor thee, my sad heart doth yearn ; 
Haste ! haste away old time ! 

Quickly speed away thy flight 
On the wings of the wind, 

Till thou bring again to my sight, 

My old friends dear and kind 1 


48 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


For I’m pining in sadness 
For thee, my loved home ; 
I’m a stranger to gladness, 
Since from thee Fdid roam. 


THE DYING DAUGHTER TO HER MOTHER. 

I’m going hence, dear mother, 

They’ll bear me to the tomb, 

My spirit soon will wander 
Where never reigneth gloom. 

The chill of death, dear mother. 

Is creeping o’er me now, 

I feel his grasp upon my hand, 

His breath upon my brow. 

Open the window, mother, 

That I again may look 
Upon the hill and valley, 

Upon the rippling brook. 

I would gaze once more, mother, 

Upon the flowers I love, 

The rosebud, the lily pure, 

Think ye, such bloom above ? 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


49 


No more shall I cull, mother, 
Flowers in early spring, 

The birds that I love dearly, 

No more shall hear them sing. 

You’ll think of me, dear mother, 
Sometimes when I am gone; 

0 think of me as happy, 

The blessed ones among. 

My sight grows dim, dear mother, 
I’m near my last, long home, 

Celestial music strikes my ear, 
And angels bid me come. 

Earth’s from my sight receding, 
And Heaven’s in my view ; 

1 go, I go, dear mother, 

You’ll meet me there, adieu ! 


I SEE A LIGHT— I’M ALMOST HOME. 

The following was related of a young girl, whose 
journey of life was near the end : 

About her chamber glided gently the loved forms 
of her parents, and only sister. She silently noted 
their movements with a mild expression of her dy- 
7 


50 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


ing eye, turning it from side to side. Arrested by 
her peculiar look, so expressive of affliction and pa- 
tient suffering, they paused to look upon her, whom 
they only now saw but dimly through their tears, 
and soon should see no more. 

A feeble effort to speak, a quivering, voiceless 
movement of the lips, drew closely around her the 
loving hearts of that sorrowing circle. Mother, 
father, sister, all came closer to her side. A playful 
smile lit up her countenance. She laid her little 
pulseless hand within her mother’s palm, then 
closed her eyelids to the light of eatth, and sunk 
away. The cold damp of death’s shadowy valley 
seemed circling over her. Slowly sinking down, 
she glided towards that river’s shore, which like a 
narrow stream divides the spirit-land from ours. 
But see ! the quivering lips e:-say to speak ! 
“ Mother J” How each heart throbbed now, and 
then each pulse stood still. They listen. “Mother !” 
the dying girl breathes forth — “I see — a light — I’m 
almost home !” 

Blessed thought ! Light is sown for man, even 
amid the gloom and darkness of the grave. 

The apparent motion ' of the earth is from the 
rising to the setting sun, when her real motion is 
from the setting sun towards the rising. So is it 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


51 


with man ; he fancies himself journeying from life 
to death, while in fact he is traveling from death to 
life. 


THE TWILIGHT HOUR. 

I love at the dim twilight hour, 

When the blazing sun has gone, 

To sit me down in a leafy bower, 

_^And meditate alone. 

To watcXthe approach of dusky night, 
Arrayed in her sombre hue, 

As she draws her misty veil around, 

And scatters the crystal dew ; 

And list to 'the notes of the night bird’s song, 
As they float on the darksome air, 

And forget in the bliss of the tranquil hour 
This world of strife and care. 

Though joyous, grave, or sad my mood, 

I love alike this hour ; 

A potent spell seems o’er me cast 
With an enchanting power. 

And oh, ’tis then fond memories 
Will gently o’er me steal, 


52 BIRTHDAY GIFT. 

Of home, and friends — and by-gone days. 
Loved scenes again reveal. 

I love the morn’s deep purple hues, 

And softly falling shower ; 

The sunny sky’s o’er arching blue — 

But more the twilight hour. 


BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT. 

“ There is but a breath of air and a beat of the 
heart, betwixt this world and the next. And in the 
brief interval of painful and awful suspense, while 
we feel that death is present with us, that we are 
powerless and he all powerful, and the last faint pul- 
sation here is but the prelude of endless life here- 
after ; we feel, in the midst of the stunning calamity 
about to befal us, that earth has no compensating 
good to mitigate the severity of our loss. But there 
is no grief without some beneficent provision to 
soften its intenseness. When the good and the 
lovely die, the memory of their good deeds, like the 
moonbeams on the stormy sea, lights up on dark- 
ened hearts, and lends to the surrounding gloom, a 
beauty so sad, so sweet, that we would not, if we 
could, dispel the darkness that environs it.’* 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


53 


fMM 


WISHES. 

Say, wouldst thou be the leaflet 
That blooms on yonder tree, 

Nodding so gay to passers by, 

And dancing merrily ? 

A leaflet ! no, I would not be — 
Though it is best to-day, 

When autumn winds shall coldly blow. 
That leaf will pass away. 

Wouldst thou not be a cloudlet, 

To float upon the breeze, 

Thy mantle soft around thee wrap, 

And gently take thine ease ? 

A cloudlet ! no, I would not be — 

Lest some fierce wind arise, 

To rend my mantle from my form. 

And bear me off a prize. 

Wouldst thou not be a lovely flower, 
The fairest in the land, 

Watched every day by beauty’s eye, 
And tended by her hands ? 


54 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


A floweret ! no, I would not be — 

Lest ruthless hands should tear 

My fragile form from off its stem, 

And blight my beauty fair. 

But I would be like yonder babe, 

As free as it from sin ; 

Thus with my bright and gladsome ways, 
The love of all to win. 

I would that then some angel bright 
Would take me by the hand, 

And bear me swiftly through the air, 

To the bright Spirit Land. 


LOVE. 

How bright and beautiful is love in its hour of 
purity and innocence — how mysteriously does it 
etherealize every feeling, and concentrate every 
wild and bewildering impulse of the heart. Love — 
holy and mysterious love — it is the garland spring 
of life, the dream of the heart, the impassioned 
poetry of nature — its song is heard in the rude and 
unvisited solitude of the far forest, and the thronged 
haunts of busy life— it embellishes with its flames 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


55 


the unpretending cot of the peasant and the gor- 
geous palace of the monarch — flashes its holy gleam 
of light upon the measured track of the lonely wan- 
derer — hovers about the imperilled bark of the storm- 
beaten mariner — enfeebles the darkly bending wing 
of the muttering tempest, and imparts additional 
splendor to the beacon that burns “on the far distant 
shore.” 

Love is the mystic and unseen spell that harmo- 
nizes and “soothes, unbidden,” the wild and rugged 
tendencies of human nature — that lingers about the 
sanctity of the domestic hearth — the worshipped 
deity of the penetralia, and unites in firmer union 
the affections of social and religious society, 1 gathers 
verdant freshness around the . guarded cradle of 
helpless infancy, and steals its moonlight darkness 
upon the yielding heart of despairing age — it hush- 
es into reposing calmness the chaffed and bruised 
and unresisting spirit of sorrow, and bears it from 
the resisting and anticipated evils of life, to its own 
bright and sheltering power of repose — transforms 
into a generous devotion the exacting desires of vul- 
gar interest and sordid avarice, and melts into a 
tearful compassion the ice of insensibility. — Starr. 


56 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


FROM EVERY THING AROUND US. 

From everything around us, 

The quick, observing mind, 

"Will gain some instruction, 

Or moral good will find. 

In each social relation, 

"What different minds we see, 

"What different dispositions, 

"What strange variety. 

The mind should be directed 
To discern good from ill ; 

The ill should be rejected, 

Lest dross the mind should fill. 

The good with care be cherished, 

Like treasures stored away ; 

For goodness, worth, and wisdom, 
Will brighter grow each day. 

Then cull, oh cull, wherever 
That thou shall chance to meet 

A flowering shrub of wisdom, 

Or buds of goodness sweet. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


57 


INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL POWER. 

What avails intellectual without moral power ? 
How little does it avail us to study the outward 
world, if its greatness inspire no reverence to its 
author, if its beneficence awaken no kindred love 
towards our fellow creatures ? How little does it 
avail us to study history, if the past do not help us 
to comprehend the dangers and the duties of the 
present ; if from the sufferings of those who have 
gone before us, we do not learn to suffer, and from 
their great and good deeds, how to act nobly ; if the 
developments of the human heart, in different ages 
and countries, do not give us a better knowledge of 
ourselves ? How little does literature benefit us, if 
the sketches of life and character, the generous sen- 
timents, the testimony to disinterestedness and rec- 
titude, with which it abounds, do not incite and 
guide us to wiser, purer, and more grateful action ? 
How little substantial good do we derive from poetry 
and the fine arts, if the beauty, which delights the 
imagination, does not warm and refine the heart, and 
raise us to the love and admiration of what is fair, 
and perfect and lofty, in character and life ? Let 
our studies be as wide as our condition will allow ; 


8 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


.',8 

but let this be their highest aim, to instruct us in 
our duty and happiness, in the perfection of our na- 
ture, in the true use of life, in the best direction of 
our powers. Then is the culture of intellect an un- 
mixed good, when it is sacredly used to enlighten 
the conscience, to feed the flame of generous senti- 
ment, to direct us in our common employments, to 
throw a grace over our common actions, to make us 
sources of innocent cheerfulness and centres of holy 
influence, and to give us courage, strength, stability, 
amidst the sudden changes and sore temptations and 
trials of life. — Rev. Dr. Charming. 


I SAW A BEAUTEOUS MAIDEN. 

I saw a beauteous maiden, 

Her form was faultless fair, 

Her eye as blue as heaven, 

In ringlets wav’d her hair. 

A robe of spotless whiteness 
Begirt her form around ; 

Her feet were lightly moving 
To music’s lively sound. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


59 


Companions were around her, 

The charming, fair and gay ; 

Rare luxuries surround them, 

A happy band were they. 

Then one among the number 
Spake to that maiden fair, 

And praised the silvery moonlight, 
And the sweet evening air. 

In softest, sweetest accents 
She spake to him most dear ; 

Indeed, she spake so gently, 

That none but he could hear. 

Again I saw that maiden, 

A matron now become, 

Presiding in a mansion, 

Her dear and happy home. 

Companions were around her, 
Lovely, fair and gay. 

She sweetly smiled upon them, 

Her children dear were they. 

I took a walk one evening, 

Within the churchyard lone ; 

And saw by the pale moonlight, 
Her name upon a stone. 


60 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


“There is no condition so low but may have 
hopes ; nor any so high that it is out of the reach of 
fears.” 


A NEW YEAR’S HYMN. 

Happy new year ! Happy new year ! 

This welcome sound breaks on the ear ; 

Blest day ! we hail once more thy dawn, 

We hail with joy the new year’s morn. 

Twelve fleeting months have fled away ; 
Again appears the new year’s day ; 

Old' Time those hours can ne’er restore, 
They’ve gone ! we ne’er shall see them more^ 

With earnest zeal, let us begin 
This glad new year, and seek to win 
The approbation of the wise ; 

Arouse each power that dormant lies. 

Which ever way we chance to turn, 
Something useful we may learn, 

Some science, art, or truth displayed, 

Or some new discovery made. 


BIRTHDAY GIRT. 


61 


The active and inquiring mind 
Can scarcely fail some sphere to find, 
Wherein it may most happy move, 

Most useful too, may often prove. 

O, when the present year has gone, 

May we look back with joy upon 
The various parts we have sustained ; 

By no remorse may we be pained. 

And may we strive day after day, 
Treasures rich to store away, 

Treasures of goodness, knowledge, truth, 
Meet ornaments for age or youth. 


HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 

Are you a husband ? Do not suppose, when weari- 
ed with business, that you have all the trouble and 
ypur wife none. Do not go home and there vent 
your ill-humor upon your unoffending spouse. Re- 
collect that she has cares as well as you. If you are 
annoyed by customers, worried for money, alarmed 
at the failures of debtors, do not take vengeance for 


62 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


your troubles on your wife, by rendering the house- 
hold miserable with your sour looks and ill- temper. 

A husband should throw off his cares the instant he 
crosses the threshold of his door. Home is too holy 
a sanctuary to be profaned by frowns. The hours 
devoted to business are all sufficient for its purposes, 
and when those hours are passed, your time should 
be surrendered to enjoyment. It is not so difficult an 
affair as you suppose. Habit is everything. With 
a firm will, you will soon learn, on entering your 
door, to throw of the annoyances of the office, as you 
cast aside your overcoat. The practice resolutely 
persisted in will eventually become a habit, and you j 
will reap your reward in a more cheerful home, and 
pleasanter evenings. Recollect, all your torment- 
ing about business, will not render you one cent 
richer ! 

Is it a wife that reads this ? Do not suffer your 
husband’s peevishness, if he comes home out of hu- 
mor, to ruffle your temper, or awake a single hard 
thought. Perhaps you have been worried all day 
with your servants, or alarmed for a sick child — 
and you are now completely fagged out and longing 
for your husband to say a cheerful word to you — 
but do not allow your disappointment to influence 
your feelings ; for it will only make matters worse. 
Your husband will soon see how much he is in the 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


63 


wrong, and make you amends by Ms altered de- 
meanor. He has been annoyed and came home, to 
seek quiet and comfort — do not be angry that cir- 
cumstances, not you, have prevented his receiving 
it* Take a word of homely advice. Have every- 
thing, at all times, neat and tidy for him; and 
when you see Mm jaded, or out of humor, quietly 
have sometMng nicer than usual for his repast. It 
is wonderful what a good dinner, or an unexpected- 
ly nice supper will do towards changing a man’s 
peevishness into good humor. Remember men are 
not angels, and must be managed as well as loved. 

This is almost like a sermon, and what Aunt 
Martha calls “ a plain talk.” But it will do you 
good, if you only follow its precepts. Try ! — Neal’s 
Gazette. 


AUTUMNAL THOUGHTS. 

The various tints of autumn, 

The trees around display ; 

The flowers so lately blooming, 
Have withered quite away. 


64 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


The grass, bright, green and vernal, 
"With dewdrops spangled o’er, 

Has donned a sombre vesture, 

Its beauty charms no more. 

The autumn is a season 
For sober, pensive thought ; 

The season for reflections, 

That come e’en though unsought. 

All, all around decaying, 

Late lovely to the eye, 

Plainly this lesson teaching, 

That we like them must die. 

Trees will resume their beauty, 
Though faded now and sere, 

The birds again sing sweetly, 

But we may not be here. 

Ere spring again shall open, 

Or flowerets bloom around, 

We may be lowly sleeping, 

Beneath the cold, cold ground. 

Then let us now consider, 

If we are free from sin ; 

If talents God hath lent us, 
Employed for good have been, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


65 


THE MOTHER’S APPEAL. 

Stay, wanderer, stay, why would’st thou roam 
From thy kindred and thy home, 

Why risk thy life upon the deep, 

Beneath its waves thy brothers sleep ; 

If thou should leave thy native shore, 

I fear that thou’lt return no more. 

I am a widow poor and lone, 

Since he was called, long years have flown ; 
Although of partner then bereft, 

Three sprightly boys I still had left, 

But two alas ! have found a grave, 

Beneath the broad Atlantic’s wave. 

In my old age, desert me not, 

To lean upon thee still I thought ; 

If thou my son, from me should roam, 

A dreary place would be my home ; 

Without thy smile to cheer my way, 

My life would be a darksome day. 

I know the world to thee seems bright, 

Thy fancy paints a brilliant light ; 

A halo round each object glows, 

9 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


66 

A mantle o’er its darkness throws ; 

Rut more of shade than light thou’ It find, 
Deception dwells in all mankind. 

I know that thou would’ st win a name, 
The path to honor, wealth and fame ; 

Thy hopes are high, they urge thee on, 
And hid each fearful thought begone. 
Ambition hath its thousands slain, 

Thy efforts all may be in yain. 

Within our little quiet cot 
There dwelleth peace, thou’lt find it not 
In the wide world ; for nought but care, 
Strife and perplexity are there. 

Then stay with me beloved one, 

All, all save thee from me are gone. 


A WORD TO THE RICH AND POOR. 

The cold north wind is blowing, 

The snow is falling fast ; 

The brooks have ceased their flowing, 
Cold Winter's come at last. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


<17 

Ye rich, who live in plenty, 

Think of the suffering poor, 

That with hardships oft they strive, 
Privations great endure. 

And if you will assistance 
To some poor creature send, 

To eke out their subsistance, 

Heaven will the act befriend. 

Now ye poor, I beg you all 
To do the best you can, 

If in deep poverty you fall, 

Wrong not your fellow-man. 

For God will look upon your need, 

If unto Him you call ; 

But strict will mark your every deed. 

If into vice you fall. 


THE STARS. 

The stars are beautiful and bright, 
How glorious they shine 
In the blue vault, night after night. 
Upheld by hands Divine. 


68 BIRTHDAY GIFT. 

O ! who upon those gems can gaze 
With cold, indifferent stare ; 

Not lose their thoughts within a maze 
Of love and rapture there. 

“ The stars are the flowers of Heaven,” 
And brightly there they bloom, 

And sparkling they appear at even, 

To dissipate night’s gloom ; 

To speak to us of His great love, 

From whom we all proceed ; 

Of Him who descended from above, 
For sinful men to bleed. 


Vulgarity of Life. — Man is self- inclined to give 
himself up to the common pursuits. The mind be- 
comes so dulled to impressions of the beautiful and 
perfect, that one should take all possible means to 
awaken one’s perceptive faculty to such objects — for 
no one can entirely dispense with these pleasures ; 
and it is only not being accustomed to the enjoy- 
ment of anything good, that causes men to find plea- 
sures in tasteless and trivial objects, which have no 
recommendation but that of novelty. One ought 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


69 


every day to hear a little song, to read a little poe- 
try, to see a good picture, and, if posssible, to say a 
few reasonable words. — Goethe. 



LITTLE KINDNESS. 


It is a query with some, whether the human 
heart is most inclined to acts of kindness or unkind- 
ness. Without undertaking to settle this question 
we think there cannot be a doubt with any one but 
P that the heart is much more inclined to unkindness 
than it should be. How many unrighteous and 
cruel acts arc performed, and hard and bitter words 
are uttered, calculated to injure the feelings and in- 
terests of those to whom they apply, when acts of 
kindness could quite as easily have been performed, 
and would have conveyed happiness instead of mis- 
ery ; and when soft words, quite as easily uttered, 
would have carried joy to the heart of the hearer. 
The smallest act of kindness would he a cordial to 
a wounded heart, and often make a friend of an 
enemy, and would make him who bestows it even 
happier than the receiver. O, what joy may follow 


70 


BIRTHDAY GIRT. 


a kind word, or even a smile, when the heart is sad. 
It is in the power of man to make his fellow happy 
by very simple means, if he will only use it. Or it 
is in his power to add new weight to the already crush- j 
ed spirit. Which of these is the proper work of man ? 
The question answers itself ; and yet how few there 
are who study the simple art of conveying happi- 
ness to all around. And how few even of those 
who know the art, practice what they know. The 
secret lies in being kind in little things. It is in 
these, which are so much overlooked by most per- 
sons, that one is enabled to make happy all who as- 
sociate with him. It is useless to be careful of great 
things, and unkind in small ones. It is in the latter 
we can discern our friends from our foes, or our reaL 
friends from our pretended ones. “Straws sho\^ 
which way the rind blows,” much better than rocks, 
or logs of wood. — Starr. 



BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


71 


S ELF-EXAMINATION. 

The sun has sank into the west, 

The beasts and birds have gone to rest, 
The stars are shining one by one, 

Another day has past and gone. 

Think now my soul what thou hast done, 
Hast thou tried all thy faults to shun ? 
And sought this day, with all thy might, 
To practice, what thou knew’st was right ? 
Lent a kind and pitying ear, 

The suppliant’s grief did’st kindly hear ; 
Comfort and aid to him impart, 

And seek to heal his breaking heart ? 

Or did’st thou harshly bid him go, 

And not tease thee with tales of wo ? 

Hast decked thyself in rich array, 

And of thy wealth hast made display ? 
While thy poor neighbor suffers sore, 

For cast-off garments from thy store? 
Hast thou thy board with dainties spread, 
While many near are lacking bread ? 

The widow and the orphan child, 

Have they beneath thy bounty smiled ? 


72 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Thine enemies dost thou forgive, 

And strive in peace with men to live ? 
Hast of any evil spoken ? 

Hast thy pledge to any broken ? 
Against thy brother cherished ire ? 
Hast checked the rise of wrong desire ? 
Hast thou this day for sake of gain, 
Upon thy conscience left a stain ? 

If so kneel to thy God and pray 
That He will wash thy guilt away. 
That He will every sin forgive, 

And teach thee better how to live. 

The good increase, the bad destroy, 
And fill thy soul with peace and joy. 


TO . 

We’ve laid thee, loved one, 'neath the sod 
All free from care ; 

Thy spirit pure hath sought its God 
In mansions fair. 

Sadly we miss thee here below, 

And grieve thy voice no more to know, 
Kind words thou ever did’st bestow, 

Our griefs did share. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Alone I sit in deepest sadness, 

Thinking of thee ; 

Of hours replete with gladness, 

No more to be ; 

My weary spirit longs to soar, 

And join thee on that heavenly shore 
Where sin and death are known no more, 
Where bliss flows free. 


DEPARTED ERIENDS. 

^ The preservation of the memories of lost friends 
is not only a good exercise for the affections, and the 
source of a pleasing hope to all who are yet to die, 
but it is calculated to have a soothing and refining 
effect upon those who indulge it. Our departed 
friends always appear to us in the light of beings re- 
moved to a purer existence and a higher state of in- 
telligence, so as to be enabled to see and judge cor- 
rectly of all our thoughts and actions. If we bear 
them any respect, we will hesitate, under this ideal 
censorship, to do things which are unworthy of us, 
and for which perhaps the present world has no 
punishment. We will try, on the contrary, to be as 
10 


74 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


pure in thought and deed as possible, in order that 
we may be more pleasing to those who, we con- 
ceive, are altogether pure, and whose esteem we na- 
turally desire to conciliate. In the midst, too, of the 
bustle and shock of the present life, when little in- 
terests and petty jealousies are rearing themselves 
like serpents in our hearts, how salutary to reflect 
that all advantages we can now seek either to gain 
or defend, are but trash and dross in the estimation 
of those from whom we lately parted, and in no long 
time will be the same in our own. Are we provid- 
ed with a large share of such goods as this world 
has to give, then will we control our appreciation of 
them, by reflecting of how little account they will 
be when we rejoin those friends in the world above. 
Are we poor, and injured, and friendless, then will 
the recollections of our departed friends tend to 
cheer us, by presenting the idea of their superiority 
to all such evils — a superiority soon to be our own. 
— R. Chambers. 



BIRTHDAY GIFT - . 


7-5 


GUARDIAN ANGELS. 

When thou lay’st down thy weaxy head 
Calmly sleeping, 

Guardian angels near thy bed 
Watch are keeping. 

Doth pain forbid thine eyes to close, 
They are near thee, 

Doth guilt refuse thee thy repose, 

They can hear thee. 

If from thy heart is breathed a prayer 
To be forgiv’n, 

Swift thy petition they will bear 
Unto Heaven. 

They will bring this blest assurance 
Thou art pardoned, 

Granted unto true repentence ; 

Be not hardened ! 

Cease now to sin, no more transgress,. 

If in Heaven 

Thou would’ st reign in righteousness, 
With the forgiv’n. 


76 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


For angels too with sins will speed 
Unto thy God, 

If thou walk not the ways with heed, 
His Son once trod. 


FLOW ON, THOU LITTLE BROOK, FLOW ON. 

Flow on, thou little brook, flow on, 

Meander through the dell ; 

Thy little wavelets come, are gone, 

Other brooklets to swell. 

The modest violet nods its head, 

As thou floweth gently by ; 

A perfume sweet around doth shed, 

As the winds o’er it sigh. 

Thou passeth many a floweret gay, 

Upon thy banks shrubs spring ; 

Thou singeth many a merry lay, 

Sing on, thou happy thing. 

Autumnal leaves upon thy waves- 
Glide on with mirth and song ; 

ThouVLl find for them a watery grave, 
Though now so blithe, ere long. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


ft 


Flow on, thou little brook, flow on, 

I love thy waters bright ; 

I watch thee oft at early dawn, 

And often at twilight. 

Say, art thou never sad, sweet brook, 
Doth sorrow never come ? 

Dost always wear as kind a look 
As now ; art aye, blithsome ? 

I have a foe, the brooklet said, 

A cold, unfeeling foe ; 

lie comes not till the flowers are dead, 
He comes with frost and snow. 

He breathes upon my active limbs, 
Stiff they become, and cold ; 

He chanteth hoarse, discordant hymns, 
Across the dreary world. 

Yes, I am sad, in icy chains. 

Thus yearly to be bound ; 

My foe o’er me triumphant reigns, 

And o’er the country ’round. 

Though I am sad and hush my song, 
I’m weary; maiden, never ; 

Patient wait and hope ere long * 

My icy bands to sever. 





78 BIRTHDAY GIFT. 

I look for a brighter, kindlier day. 
When the genial Spring shall come j 
And chase my wintry foe away, 

Unto his northern home. 

Flow on, sweet brook, I love thee now, 
Better than e’er before ; 

Thou’st taught me murmurless to bow 
Until life’s storms are o’er. 


PRETTY THOUGHT. 

God speaks to man through the countless objects 
of his creating. His law, and wisdom, and good- 
ness are written on the arched canopy of heaven. — 
His voice is among the hills and valleys of the earth ; 
where the shrubless mountain pierces the atmosphere 
of eternal winter, and where the mighty forest fluc- 
tuates before the strong winds with its bark waves 
of green foliage. It is these revelations from God to 
man, whieh break link after link of the chain which 
binds us to 'materiality, and opens to our imagina- 
tion a world of spiritual beauty. 

The most precious things this side the grave are 


filRTHDAY GIFT. 


76 

reputation and life ? yet the most contemptible wea- 
pon may deprive us of the one and the meanest 
whisper of the other . — Farmer and Mechanic . 


No Time to Read. — How often do We hear men 
excuse themselves from subscribing to a paper or 
periodical, by saying they have no time to read. — 
When we hear a man, thus excuse himself, we con- 
clude he has never found time to confer any sub- 
stantial advantage either upon his family, his coun- 
try, or himself ; it is truly humiliating, and we can 
form no other opinion than that such a man is of 
little importance to society. — lb. 


THE MOTHER'S FAREWELL. 

Farewell ! I bid thee, now, my child, 

An earthly, last farewell ! & 

For death hath sealed thine eye so mild, 
And thou With him must dwell. 


80 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Vainly I strive my tears to check ; 

They fall upon thy brow ; 

Why should I to His will object, 

Or wish thee back below ? 

He called thee hence while thou wert pure,) 
Polluted by no sin ; 

Heath ne’er again wilt thou endure, 

Nor anguish feel within. 

But in a bright, eternal home, 

Forever more wilt dwell, 

With angel spirits thou w r ilt roam, 

And joys we may not tell. 

And spring-fl.ow r ers bright, around thy tomb 
I’ll plant, my little one ; 

Perchance when they the brightest bloom, 
Thy spirit may look down ; 

And smile an angel's smile, my babe, 

Upon a mother’s love, 

That would not have a shade of gloom, 

To meet thy gaze above. 

And now farewell, dear babe, once more, 
And peaceful be thy rest ; 

Then when my days on earth are o’er, 

I’ll clasp thee to my breast. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


81 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 

The death of a little child is to the mother's heart 
like dew on r plant from which v hud has perished. 
The plant lifts up its head in freshened greenness to 
the morning light ; so the mother’s soul gathers 
: from the dark sorrow through which she has passed, 
a fresh brightening of her heavenly hopes. 

As she bends over the empty cradle, and in fancy 
: brings her sweet infant before her, a ray of divine 
light is on the cherub face. It is her son still, but 
with the seal of immortality on his brow. She feels 
that heaven was the only atmosphere where her pre- 
cious flower could unfold without spot or blemish, 
and she would not recall the lost.^ But the anniver- 
sary of his departure seems to bring his spiritual 
presence near her. She indulges in that tender 
grief which soothes, like an opiate in pain, all her 
passages and cares of life. The world to her is no 
longer filled with a human love and hope — in the 
future, so glorious with heavenly love and joy, she 
has treasures of happiness which the worldly, un- 
chastened heart never conceived. * 

The bright, fresh flowers with which she decorated 
her room, the apartment where the infant died, are 

11 


82 BIRTHDAY GIFT. 

emblems of tbe far brighter hopes now dawning on 
her day dream. She thinks of the glory and beauty 
of the New Jerusalem. And she knows her infant 
is there, in that world of eternal bliss. She has 
marked one passage in that book — to her emphati- 
cally the Word of Life — now lying closed on the 
toilet table, which she daily reads — “Suffer little 
children , and forbid them not, to come unto me ; for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven ” — Far. and Mec. 


V 

Female Beauty. — A cultivated mind and good 
heart will give an intelligent and even beautiful ex- 
pression to the face. The features maybe irregular, 
and the complexion bad, but if the heart is gentle, 
and the mind well stored, the woman will be hand- 
some. We have known women, who, at first sight, 
were positively homely, yet who became very hand- 
some, even fascinating, upon further acquaintance. 
Ib. 


THtere is this paradox in pride, it makes some men 
ridiculous, but prevents others from becoming so. 
lb. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


&3 , 


THE HUMAN HEART. 

The human heart a garden is. 

And flowers there we raise, 

The blossoms and the fruit they bear, 
Our skill reprove or praise. 

If we allow the noxious weeds 
To rankly flourish there, 

Spite all our efforts to conceal, 

The truth will plain appear. 

If bitter herbs the garden yield, 

And are permitted there, 

The other stunted fruit and flowers, 

A wormwood taste will bear. 

If we ingraft the lovely rose, 

And lily buds so pure, 

An odor sweet they will exhale 
That ever will endure. ( 

Our hearts may we npw look within, 
Examine well the fruit, 

Uproot each poisonous weed and herb, 
Reserve each tender shoot 


84 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


That promises to bear a rose, 

Or violet so sweet, " 

And if we nurture them with care, 
They will our wishes meet. 


THE ART OF THINKING. 

One of the best modes of improving in the art of 
thinking, is to think over some subject before you 
read upon it ; and then to observe after what man- 
ner it has occurred to the mind of some great mas- 
ter ; you will then observe whether you have been 
too rash or too timid ; what you have omitted, and 
in what you have exceeded ; and by this process 
you will insensibly catch a great manner of view- 
ing a question. It is right in study, not only to think 
whenever any extraordinary incident provokes you 
to think, but from time to time review what has 
passed ; to dwell upon it, and to see what trains of 
thought voluntarily present themselves to the mind. 
It is a most superior habit of some minds, to refer 
all the particular truths which strike them, to other 
truths more general ; so that their knowledge is 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


85 


beautifully methodised ; and the general truth at any 
time suggests all the particular exemplifications, or 
any particular exemplification at once leads tQ the 
general truth. This kind of understanding has an 
immense and decided superiority over those confus- 
ed heads in which one fact is piled upon another, 
without the least attempt at classification and ar- 
rangement. Some men always read with a pen in 
their hand, and commit to paper any new thought 
which strikes them ; others trus to chance for its 
reappearance. Which of these is the best method 
in the conduct of the understanding, must, I sup- 
pose, depend a great deal upon the particular un- 
derstanding in question. Some men can do noth- 
ing without preparation ; others little, with it ; some 
are fountains, some reservoirs. — Rev. Sidney Smith. 


A THOUGHT. 

How sweet, how soothing is the thought, 
As through earth’s scenes we roam, 
And cares perplex and doubts distract, 
That earth is not our home : — 


86 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


That we can look beyond, and feel 
How soon earth’s ties will sever ; 

When we shall dv^ell where pain’s unknown, 
With nought but bliss — forever. 


TO EMELINE. 

All mortals crave some friendly heart, 
That from us will not stray, 

If from the right we should depart, 

But point a better way. 

For one who will not proudly scorn, 

If wealth should ever flee, 

With haughty mein, on us look down, 

If low our lot should be. 

To weep with us, when e’er we weep, 
When glad with us, rejoice, 

To comfort us in sorrow — seek, — 

With sympathizing voice. 

And of our faults will sometimes speak, 
In tender, friendly way, 

And for their reformation seek ; 

The hypocrite ne’er play. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


87 


And when our path is clouded o’er 
With earthly grief and care, 

That we may above them soar, 

Join us in earnest prayer. 

Oh ! such a friend, be it thy lot 
To meet, where e’er thou stray ; 

When e’er thy friendship shall be sought, 
From such ne’er turn away. 


ONE FRIEND. 



How pleasant a thing it is to have one friend to 
whom we can go and unbosom our feelings, when 


the world is harsh with us, and darkness has settled 


on the fair face of nature. At such a time, a friend- 
ly heart to counsel and advise with us — that will 
manifest feeling and sympathy — is above all price, 
The outgushings of love and tenderness revive and 
cheer us — drive away the sadness from the bosom, 
and brighten the heavens again. He who has one 
to whom he can go in the hour of adversity, can 
never be wholly cast down, can never be driven to 


88 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


despair. The world, dark as it may sometimes be, 
will always contain one bright spot — beautiful spot 
— it will grow brighter and brighter, till the stricken 
heart partakes of the fullness of joy, and is cast 
down no more for ever. — Far. and Mec. 


A VAGARY. 

I love to steal an hour ‘away 
To some secluded nook, 

And watch the glimmering sunbeam’s ray, 
The flowing, bubbling brook. 

And listen to the merry birds, 

Warbling each joyful lay ; 

I feel enraptured, faint are words 
My feelings to portray. 

I wish, I long, that I could be 
I know not what or where, 

I fancy spirits I can see 
Around me in the air. 

’Tis all a fancy, -well I know 
I see not spirits there, 

It is not given us below, 

To know the spirits’ sphere. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


89 


Hence, I force not the vision bright, 
That flits across my brain, 

O no, to me ’tis great delight, 

The image to retain. 

To dream myself a favored child, 
That spirits condescend, 

As I rove through the woodland wild, 
My footsteps to attend. 

And when again I seek my home, 

I feel a calm within ; 

Would every fancy o’er me come, 
Were free as this from sin. 



-fir 

^ Friendship. — u They who will abandon a friend 
for one error, know little of human character, and 
prove that .their hearts are as cold as their judge 
ments are weak.” jw— 



11 


90 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


I LOVE THE SPRING. 

I love the Spring, so bright and gay, 

But best of all the month of May, 

When flowerets bright bedeck the ground, 
The woods with melody resound ; 

The bright blue sky, and fragrant air, 

And nature blooming everywhere. 

O Spring ! fair Spring ! why dost thou stay ? 
Come hasten on without delay. 

TJpon each bare and leafless tree, 

Eoliage green I long to see, 

Birds and flowers I miss them sore, 

When will stern Winter’s reign be o’er ? 
And little brooks so blithe and free, 

Rejoice once more in liberty. 

O Spring ! fair Spring ! why dost thou stay ? 
We’re mourning at thy long delay. 

Impatiently I watch each day 
To see the snow wreaths melt away, 

To see the bright green grass appear, 

And hear the warbler’s notes of cheer, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


91 


To see thy face once more sweet spring, 
And garlands green which thou wilt bring. 
O Spring ! fair Spring ! no longer stay, 

But hasten with thy daughter May. 


BEAUTIFUL PASSAGES. 

“You cannot go into the meadow and pluck up a 
single daisy by the roots, without breaking up a so- 
ciety of nice relations, and detecting a principle 
more extensive and refined than mere gravitation. 
The handful of earth that follows the tiny roots of 
the little flower is replete with social elements A 
little social circle has been formed around the ger- 
minating daisy. The sun-beam and the dew-drop 
met there, and the soft summer breeze came whis- 
pering through the tall grass to join the silent con- 
cert ; and the earth introduced them, and they all 
went to work to show that flower to the sun. Each 
mingled in the honey of its influence, and they nur- 
sed ‘the wee canny thing’ with an aliment that 
made it grow. And when it lifted its eyes towards 
the sky, they wove a soft carpet of grass for its feet, 
And the sun saw it through the green leaves, and 
smiled as he passed on ; and then by starlight and 


92 


BIRTHDAY GIFT, 


moonlight they worked on. And the daisy lifted up 
its head, and one morning, while the sun was look- 
ing upon the dews, it put on its silver-rimmed dia- 
dem, and showed its yellow petals to the stars. And 
it nodded to the little birds that were swimming in 
the sky. And a!l of them that had silver- lined 
wings came ; and birds in black and gray, and 
quaker brown cam*e ; and the querulous blue bird, 
and the courtsying yellow bird came, and each sun; 
a native air at the coronation of that daisy. 

“Every thing that sung or shone upon that wee ; 
modest flower, was a member of that social circle 
and conspired to its harmony and added to its music 
Heaven, earth, sky and sea, were its companions 
the sun and stars walked hand in hand with it, as 
kindly as if they never saw another daisy, or had 
another companion. The sober ocean, even the dis- 
tant Pacific, laded the fleet- winged clouds with 
sweet-savored dews, to brighten its countenance 
when the sun appeared.” 

The method in which Laura Bridgeman was 
taught to read is thus spoken of : 

“And they made a wooden alphabet, wooden mo- 
dels of ideas, of things that had been, are, and shall 
be in the world. And these she touched most 
thoughtfully, as if listening for the music of a new 
existence ; and, wonderful ! her fingers’ end became 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


93 


endowed with, faculties almost miraculous, and filled 
her mind with astonishing revelations of things pre- 
sent, past, and to come. Her little white, whisper- 
ing, loving, listening fingers touched the record of 
the olden years, before the Flood, till they felt the 
branches of the forbidden tree, and the locks of mur- 
dered Abel, and the surges that beat against Noah’s 
helmless ark, and the cradle of the Hebrew baby in 
the bulrushes, and the tremulous base of Sinai, and 
David's harp, and the face of the infant Emanuel in 
the manger, and the nails that fastened him to the 
cross, and their deep prints that unbelieving Thomas 
felt after the resurrection ; and with his faith, on 
shorter evidences she too had cried in the voiceless 
language of her heart, ‘My Lord ! and my God !’ " 


A TWILIGHT THOUGHT. 

Now gently sinks the setting sun ; 

Tinged is each cloud with gold ; 

For day once more its course has run— 
Its deeds to heaven are told. 


94 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


How pleasant now, if we can say, 

As twilight hastens on, 

That we have well improved the day 
Whose fleeting hours are gone. 

If we have wiped away one tear, 

Or soothed one single pain, 

Or sought to cheer one drooping heart, 
We have not lived in vain. 

So swiftly flies the life of man/ 

So soon his days are o’er ; 

0, let us do what good we can 
Ere time shall be no more. 


4 


THE STRANGER’S GRAVE. 

In the land of strangers, far from his birth, 

They have laid him down in the cold, damp earth 
Where tall trees wave, and the wild flowers bloom 
In the forest lone they’ve made him a tomb, 

Where the wild. birds warble requiems o’er 
His lonely grave qii a far distant shore. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


No fondly loved -wife, no children were near 
To sooth his last hours and make them less drear, 
But, tended by strangers, he drew his last breath, 
With none to lament him 6r weep at his death ; 
With scarcely a prayer they bore him away 
To the cold embrace of our mother clay. 

But calmly and sweetly his body will rest 
In its, lonely bed in the “land of the West,” 

For what recks the body when spirit has fled, 

Of where it may find its last low bed, 

’Neath sculptured urn in its own native land, 
’Neath the ocean’s waves, or the deserts sand. 

The angel appointed to guard the dead, 

Will watch o’er each lone sequestered bed, 

Till the trumpet’s sound at the last Great Day, 
Shall arouse to life the slumbering clay ; 

Then oh, let him rest, no more grieve that he 
Is slumbering afar from his own country. 



96 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


THE MOURNING SISTER. 

Thou art gone from among us. 

And never more here, 

Thou wilt meet again with us, 

Though unto us dear. 

And sadly we are mourning, 

Dear sister, for thee, 

And sit o’er thy grave weeping. 
Beneath the yew tree. 

Thy form so perfect in beauty, 

With grace so replete, 

Lies mouldering ’neath the sod, 

Where the vile worms creep. 

O, why so soon didst thdu leave 
For the cold, dark grave, 

We did much for thee, sister, 

But we could not save. 

List ! wdiat is that sweet cadence 
That breaks on mine ear ? 

’T is the voice of my sister, 

’Tis her that I hear. 


BIRTHDAY GIPT. 


97 


<* O, why weep ye, why mourn ye, 
For what’s in the tomb ? 

It is. only the casket, 

The gem still doth bloom. 

“ In gardens of Eden, in 
Paradise bowers, 

No mortal can imagine 
The bliss that is ours. 

4i Mortal ! cease now thy weeping, 
And prepare to greet 

The spirit of thy sister, 

For soon we shall meet.” 

She has ceased — now she’s gone — 
That bright sister of mine ; 

I will follow thee ere long, 

My spirit meet thine. 


A SISTER’S LOVE. 

Many, perhaps all of you,- may have brothers. 
Possibly there are cases where, now and then, they 
may become the victims of intemperance, or licen- 
tiousness, or gambling, or irreligion ! How much a 
12 


98 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


sister’s love and assiduity may effect, if seasonably 
exerted, in preventing sucli family calamities ! If 
you discover in one of them the least appearance 
of such an inclination, reproach him not ; that may 
do more injury than benefit. Do no such thing. 
Such weapons may goad him on ; may lead him to 
desperation ; may even seal his ruin. I pray you, 
my young friends, do no such thing. If you would 
prevail, be wise as serpents, and harmless as the 
cooing doves. If you succeed, great indeed will be 
your victory ! Honorable will be your triumph ! 
The hope of a kind father and the first-born of an 
agonized mother may perchance be rescued from 
destruction, while a dear brother may be preserved 
to protect and to bless yourself to the day of your 
death. Watch your opportunities. At some au- 
spicious moment, when the softened shades of eve- 
ning are gathering over you both with their pensive 
influences, or the light of the silvery moon is play- 
fully controlling the more unsubdued attributes of 
youthful ardor and impetuosity, and are beguiling 
him to the bewitching reveries of unchastened pas- 
sion, take him gently by the hand ; impress upon 
his feverish lips the pious fervor of your own ; with 
your arms about his neck, press him to your full 
bosom ; then overwhelm him with your kind en- 
treaties ; and letting these entreaties, each on your 
bended knees, be sanctified by a sister’s prayer : be- 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


99 


lieve me, dear maiden, your work will then be ac- 
complished ! For if the spirits of the other world 
ever watch the events of this, they must now have 
been present ; thus, heaven ratifying and confirm- 
ing the penitential vows of a returning prodigal. — 
Blake's Every Day Book. 


TIIE NAIAD OF THE LAKE, 

The gentle moon is shining 
From her pure throne of light ; 

And starry gems entwining 
Surround the queen of night. 

The western zephyrs blowing 
Across the placid lake ; 

The waters, ceaseless flowing, 

Alone the silence break. 

Hark ! sweetest sounds of melody 
Across the waters stealing ; 

A little boat bounds light and free, 

A slender form revealing. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Within the little skiff — alone — 

A maiden is reclining, 

She bears a lute of sweetest tone. 

The wild and soft combining. 

She floats awhile — then disappears 
beneath the water’s breast ; 

One mighty wave its head uprears, 

Then, quiet, sinks to rest. 

The skiff in which the maid reclines 
Of sea shells rare is wrought ; 

And precious gems upon it shine, 

More rich than man ere sought. 

The “ Naiad of the Lake,” they call * 
That beauteous maiden fair ; 

"T is said ere autumn leaflets fall, 

She always does appear. 

Hark ! how her -wild melodious notes 
Steal o’er the evening air ; 

And see ! the waves on which she floats 
A^g olden radiance wear. 


BIRTIIPAY GIFT. 


101 


THE WIDOW. 

How lonely must the widow be 
When her dear partner’s gone ; 

The staff she fondly leaned upon','* 

Is suddenly withdrawn. . 

Although she hopes he’s now at rest, 

Yet anguish rends her aching breast. 

To be alone in this bleak world, 

-How chilling is the thought ; 

When cares perplex, and fears distress, 

He’s gone who comfort brought. 

Upon her God she may rely, 

He heareth the most feeble cry. 

Hearts of stone, they must possess, 

Who harshly to the widow speak ; 

Her’s is a melancholy fate, 

To comfort, all should seek. 

The kindly word, the falling tear, 

She knows their worth ; to her they’re dear . 

Yes, “I will be the widow’s God,” 

He said who cannot lie ; 

Chastisements sore, He oft afflicts, 


102 


BIRTHDAY GIPT. 


While mercy’s in His eye. 

It takes those that we fondly love, 
To lure our hearts to realms above. 




7 j 

\ THE 


SHEERER. 


There is a large class of people who employ 
themselves almost constantly by sneering at the ef- 
forts of others. Nothing done by a neighbor suits 
them. If you perform an act of charity, they 
question your motives ; if you exhibit skill in your 
profession, they pretend to regard you an over-rated 
man ; if you produce something decidedly meritori- 
ous, they ridicule and depreciate its worth ; and if 
you originate a thought or machine, they declare 
you a plagiarist. In their estimation your writings 
are stupid, and full of tautology ; your conversa- 
tion unprofitable ; the work of your hands value- 
less. And yet ask them to do what you aimed at, 
and failed in, according to them, and they have not 
even the ability to try. They are all, in fact, what 
they feign you to be, and unfit for everything but 
fault-finding, crying down people of merit, and 
slandering worth. They are envious, jealous, and 




BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


103 


full of cant. Incapable of doing what you do, and 
therefore envious of your talent ; too dull to com- 
mand respect, and constantly jealous of what you 
receive ; incompetent to produce a thought, and al- 
ways ready to carp at what you express. They are 
of the race of Diogenes, without his ability ; Cyn- 
ics, without the merit of honesty of purpose. 
Heed them not, reader, they are harmless when 
treated with contempt ; and if you ask where they 
are to be found, look around you — your circle of ac- 
quaintance will furnish one, no doubt, of the class. 
Qatar act. 


THE CHILD’S LAST REQUEST. 

O mother dear, come to me now, 

And place your hand upon my brow, 

The hot blood courses through my veins* 
But soon will end my earthly pain, 

Dear mother, I am going where * 

There ne’er is known a grief or care. 

When low I sleep beneath the ground, 
And Spring has strown gay flowers around, 
O mother, come at eventide, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


And sit thee down my grave beside, 
And place a wreath of flowerets wild, 
Upon the grave of thy dear child. 

My life has been a happy one, 

The years, alas, have swiftly flown, 
But here I would not longer stay, — 
An angel beckons me away ; 

And silver voices say to me, 

0, come and join the blest and free. 


MY HOME. 

I have no desire to mingle 
Among the sons of men, 

To me there’s little pleasure 
In what well pleases them. 

O, I had rather be at home 
Alone by my fire side, 

Than in the gayest company, 

Where graceful dances glide. 

There’s those who seek for joy abroad, 
Are ne’er content at home ; 

Perchance there’s pleasure in the world 
For those who love to roam. 


BIRTHDAY GIPT. 


10 


Then let them go, detain them not, 
Experience will show 
If happiness is found abroad, 

To those who -wish to know. 

O, give me but a quiet cot, 

Ear from the haunts of men, 

The noise and strife is pain to me. 
That so well pleases them. 

For I have learnt to look above 
For joy no more abroad ; 

Alone at home then let me be, 
Alone but with my God. 


PASSING AWAY. 

We are passing away like morning dew, 

With life’s vain cares we shall shortly be through, 
Like the bow in the cloud reflected gay, 

But soon disappears — we’re passing away. 

Like Autumn leaves thickly strewing the ground, 
Which lately w r ere blooming, now lowly are found, 
Like dark shades of night at dawning of day, 

Like mist in the breeze — we’re passing away. 

13 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


) 


103 

The bright hopes of bliss which flatter the youth, 
As he steps on life’s stage, ne’er doubting their truth.. 
’Till life more of shade than light doth display, 

Like the youth’s brilliant dreams — we're passing 
away. 

The rose in the morn is fair to the eye, 

Rut ere it is night will wither and die, 

From this may we learn we may not long stay, 

Like the rose we’re doomed — we’re passing away. 

Then lay up your treasures beyond the bright sky. 
Where thieves break not thro’ nor corruption comes 
nigh, 

Where, flowers ne’er wither, or hopes e’er decay, 
Lut all is enduring — we’re passing away. 


MEMORY OF THE PAST YEAR. 

Gone are some who were around us 
In the past year, 

Broken are the tics that bound us 
Unto those dear ; 


BIRTHDAY GUT. 


107 


The winds are sighing o’er their graves, 
The cypress o’er them nightly waves 
A dewy tear. 

Dreams of bliss we fondly cherished 
Bright as the sun, 

Sanguine schemes too have perished, 
Remains not one ; 

-V cloud hangs o’er tire vanished year, 

The friends we lov.ed, the hopes most dear, 
'With it have gone. 


We would not ask here long to stay, 
Oppressed with care, 

No, short but peaceful be our way, 

May we ne’er dare 
To upward lift a murmuring cry, 

But every ill should meekly try 
To patient bear. 

A 

Ever look for a brighter morn 
Beyond the tomb, 

We shall meet those we sadly mourn 
'Where there’s no gloom ; 
To\kI hopes will there ne’er meet a blight. 
Nor friendships fade in one short night. 
But ever bloom, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


O, EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL 

O, everything is beautiful, 

O, everything is fair ; 

The sunny sky, the waters blue, 

The fresh perennial air. 

The Winter with his snowy robe, 
Adorned with frost-work rare ; 

Presenting imagery so quaint, 

So graceful and so fair. 

The Spring with her clear, ringing lau 
And footsteps bounding free ; 

Dispersing lovely flowers around, 

Re- clothing every tree. 

The^ummer with her quiet mein, 
And pensive Autumn, too, 

Present alike enticing charms 
To nature’s lovers true. 

The, little rippling brook that flows 
Adown the meadows green, 

The sportive insects in the air, 

IIow happy do they seem. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


109 


Beauty, order and harmony, 

In nature’s works appear ; 

How well they all perform the part 
Which is assigned them here. 

O, every thing is beautiful, 

O, every thing is fair, / 

The works of God all, all rejoice, 

Let us their gladness share. 

For oh, this life is not so dark, 

As poets sometimes say ; 

Though clouds may sometimes overshade, 
They soon will pass away. 


ACQUIRE INFORMATION. 

The amount of valuable information, on all kinds 
of subjects, with which many individuals have in 
their power to store their minds, and which by in- 
cidental circumstances may be brought to bear on 
some useful object, merely by attending to things 
apparently trifling — by considering no source of in- 
formation too low, provided it be an honorable one 
— is altogether astonishing. The time that some 


110 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


people are consuming in indolence, or with, a total 
disregard to the minutse of general occupation, oth- 
ers who are aware of the value of knowledge, ar,e 
assiduously picking it up wherever it may be found, 
and carefully applying it wherever it is useful. By 
this means a man becomes impregnable on all 
points ; he is able to say something on all subjects ; 
he obtains the reputation of a man of intelligence, 
which, leads him to offices of distinction and respect- 
ability in the community . — Family Reading. 


LINES ON THE DEATH OF ABBY S . 


llest, rest, in peaceful slumbers rest, 

Thy days on earth are o’er, 

Life’s joys and cares no more will share, 
With us thou’lt meet no more. 

While lingering near thy sister’s graves, 
Thy feet have often pressed 
The soil ’neath which thou liest now ; 
With health then thou wert blest. 


EIIITHDAY GIFT. Ill 

Thou little thought, dear Ahby, then, 

That death to thee was nigh, 

"While strewing flowers o’er their graves, 
"Would soon beside them lie. 

The troubles of this sinful world 
Thou never looked upon, 

For 'ere one shade had marred thy brow, 

Thy Father called thee home. 

Though in the earth thy body lies, 

Thy spirit hence hath flown 
To purer realms, and brighter skies, 

Nor dweU’st thou there alone. 

Three sisters and one brother dear, 

Before thee there have fled, 

Each in the morning of their life, 

Were numbered with the dead. 

Here may their bodies sweetly rest, 

Their spirits bright above 
Linked by a cord which ne’er is loosed, 

The golden cord of love. 


112 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


ANOTHER CHILD IN HEAVEN. 

It was mid-day, when softly and unobserved, I 
entered the chamber of death. A silence, broken 
only by the occasional outgushings of grief, reigned 
there. On the couch before me lay the almost 
lifeless form of one who was just on the verge of 
heaven. An aged father, whose emaciated form 
and tremulous voice told of the many years he had 
spent in winning souls to Christ, a tender mother, 
brothers, sisters, and dear friends had gathered 
around the bedside of this dying girl — a lovely 
young lady of nineteen summers, who had in the 
morning of life learned to love Jesus. Not a tear 
fell from the eye of that father; but with a coun- 
tenance lighted up with a heavenly radiance, he 
sat watching the last short breathings of his child ; 
and as she sunk in death, he exclaimed — “Another 
child in Heaven.” 

Scarcely had these accents fallen from his lips, 
when the bereaved almost involuntary kneeled 
down and commended themselves to that God who 
has promised that “He will never leave or forsake 
those who put their trust in Him.” 

"What was it that so cheered and sustained this 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


113 


fatlier as he saw his darling child in the embraces 
of death ? It was this — he had trained her for hea- 
ven. He felt that she had gone to that blessed home 
whither he and his dear family were fast gathering. 

Reader, are you a parent ? What is the influence 
you are exerting over your children ? Are you pre- 
paring them for a blessed immortality? Are you 
so training them that you can have the assurance, 
when death enters into your family circle, and re- 
moves one therefrom, that you have “a child in hea- 
ven ?” — Anon. 


LINES. 

The brightest flowers are first to fade, 
The plants we dearest prize 
Are often blighted in the bud, 

By cold, tempestuous skies. 


Remember that lab,or is necessary to excellence. 
This is an eternal truth, although vanity cannot be 
brought to believe, or indolence to heed it . — John 

Randolph. 


14 


114 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


THOSE GENTLE WORDS. 

Those gentle words ! I heed them now, 
Though many years have fled 
Since she who breathed them in my ear, 
Was numbered with the dead . 

When bitter words I since have heard, 
Or deeds of evil seen, 

Those gentle words sweet cordials woul(,l 
• To my grieved spirit bring. 

When angry thoughts arise within, 
Against some artful foe, 

I seem to hear those gentle words. 

She spake so long ago. 

Oft-times methinks, when I am sad 
That her loved spirit’s near^ 

To breath into my drooping soul, 

Sweet thoughts of hope and cheer. 

And often too, in midnight hours, 

When vigils lone I keep, 

I love to think her spirit’s near, 

The guardian of my sleep. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


115 


0 no, I never shall forget, 

So long as memory live, 

These words she spoke to me in love, 
“Forgive thy foes, forgive.” * 

Oft times I stand beside her grave, 
While tears my eyes o’er flow, 

1 thank her for those gentle words, 
She spake so long ago. 


GENTLE WORDS. 

Who has not felt the influence of a gentle word \ 
What person have they not overcome with a greater 
power than harsh words or taunting remarks ? Yet 
how few are in the habit of using them. Persons 
of the most trying dispositions, breaking forth in 
loud exclamations of anger, without any regard for 
the feelings of the individual for whom they were 
intended, become as calm as a summer’s day when 
the answei in return was all gentleness, they be- 
come ashamed and humbled before their victim. 
Again, we see those who have met with others like 
themselves, answering each other tauntingly, and so 


116 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


keep up the controversy for hours, when a gentle 
word would have settled all difficulties. 

What worlds of luxury do they afford the -weary 
culprit; he receives with heartfelt gratitude one 
little word in kindness spoken ; they revive the 
better feelings of his heart. To the old, they are a 
balm of consolation that will light up the aged feat- 
ures with a smile, beautiful to behold. They bind 
the links of affection we have for our children near- 
er to our hearts, and cause their little breasts to 
palpitate with joy ; so it is with every one, even 
the most depraved. Why, then, should we not en- 
deavor to smile sweetly upon all, and ever strive to 
use gentle words to those that surround us ! They 
are little words, that require neither wealth or ex- . 
ertion upon our part to bestow. — Waverly Magazine. 


% 


0 , why should frowns ere cloud our brows ? 

Harsh words, why should we speak, 
When pleasant smiles and loving words 
From ill some heart may keep. 


UIRTIIDAY GIFT. 


117 


TO . 

No trace of earthly sorrow, 

Hath ever crossed thy brow, 

No charm thou needest borrow, 
There’s none more fair than thou. 

Yes : all who gaze upon thee, 

In admiration bow ; 

A noble heart hath won thee, 

There’s none more blest than thou. 

Home — wealth, and all around thee, 
Unite to make thee blest ; 

And loving friends surround thee, 

To grant each fond request. 

And now, may every blessing 
Continue to be thine, 

And thou each joy possessing, 

Glide down the stream of time. 

But, should a shade of sadness 
Fall on thy gentle heart, 

There’s One can give thee gladness, 
And bid each grief depart. 


118 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


’Tis God who gives each blessing — 
’Tis God who answers prayer ; 
The heart with faith addressing, 

In grief will ne’er despair. 


A MOTHER’S LOVE. 

There are few subjects of contemplation more 
melancholy than the waste of human love which 
the aspect of this world presents — of deep, tender 
love, bestowed in such a manner as meets no re- 
turn ; and what must be the harvest gathered in to 
a faithful mother’s bosom, when she finds she has 
reared up children who are too refined to share her 
humble pursuits, too learned and too clever to 
waste their talents on a sphere of thought and ac- 
tion like her own, and too much engaged in the 
pursuit of intellectual attainment ever to think of 
her. Yet to whom do we look for consolation when 
the blight of sickness or sorrow falls upon our 
earthly peace, but to the mother ? And who but 
a mother is invited to partake of our afflictions or 
trials ? If the stigma of w’orldly degradation fall 
upon us, we fly to a mother’s love for that mantle 
of charity which is denied elsewhere. With more 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


119 


honored and distinguished associates, -we may have 
smiled away the golden hours of life’s young 
prime ; but the bitter tears of experience are wept 
upon a mother’s bosom. We keep for our summer 
friends the amusing story, the brilliant witticism, or 
the intellectual discourse — but we tell to a mother’s 
ear the tale of our distress, and the history of our 
wrongs. For all that belongs to the weakness and 
wants of humanity a mother’s affection is sorely 
taxed ; why, then, should not the daughters have 
the noble feeling to say before the world, and to let 
their actions speak the same language, “This is my 
earliest, and my best friend.” — Women of England.. 


SAD WAS THE DAY. 

Mother, dear mother, oh, sad was the day, 

Sad was the day — sad was the day — 

When thou from among us wert called away, 

Sad was the day — was the day — 

Sorrowing we clustered thy bed, 

And knew that thou soon must be with the dead, 
We thought that all bliss forever had fled, 

Sad was the day — was the day. 


120 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


And when I gazed on thy pale face so dear, 

Sad was the day — sad was the day — 

And knew thy loved voice no more I should hear. 
Sad was the day — was the day — 

In heart-breaking anguish sorely I cried 
For thee, my mother, protector and guide, 

Oh, how I longed to lie cold by thy side ; 

Sad was the day — was the day. 

Though long years have fled, I think of thee yet, 
Sad was the day — sad was the day — 

The kind words thou spake I shall never forget, 
Sad was the day — was the day — 

There’s none can tell the deep grief of the heart, 
Save those who’re called from a mother to part ; 
Freshly as ever the tears now will start, 

Sad was the day — was the day. 


“When a stranger treats me with a want of res- 
pect,” said a poor philosopher; “I comfort myself 
with the reflection that it is not myself that he 
slights, but my old and shabby coat and shabby 
hat, which, to say the truth, have no particular 
claims to adoration ! So if my hat and coat choose 
to fret about it, let them ; but it is nothing to me.” 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


121 


Sketch of the Life of Eleazer Smith. 

Eleazer Smith, the subject of the following 
sketch was born in Medfield, Mass., April 1st, 1754. 
lie however removed in early life to the adjoining 
town of Walpole His education was very limited, 
being nothing more than the common schools of 
those days afforded : a little Arithmetic, less Gram- 
mar, Reading and Writing. He is said to have been 
a very great reader, and possessed a very retensive 
memory, and wrote a very good hand. As he ad- 
vanced in life, he devoted much time to the study 
of Astronomy, Chemistry, Botany and Machinery ; 
and possessed extensive information on those sub- 
jects. He was frequently visited by scientific and 
professional gentlemen for consultation and infor- 
mation on those subjects. But his favorite study 
and employment w r as machinery ; — it was in me- 
chanical inventions and operations that he displayed 
his greatest genius. 

Many persons have wished for a full and accurate 
account of his life and inventions, but have wished 
in vain. While he lived, it was known that he had 
a manuscript written by himself, containing his au- 
to-biography, and an account of his inventions, but 


15 


122 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


.since his death, as no traces as no traces of it have 
been discovered, it is supposed to have been lost or 
destroyed. My information has been obtained from 
aged persons, who were acquainted with him, and 
although very limited, will, I trust, give some satis- 
faction to the public. 

He manifested his ingenuity when quite a boy in 
the construction of a wooden spring trap for catch- 
ing rabbits ; a similar otie is used for that purpose 
until this day. When about sixteen years old, he 
constructed a watch, and encased it in a white oak 
knot , which kept very good time. Ilis jack-knife 
was probably his chief tool. His friends perceiving 
the bent of his mind, propliecied that when he 
should arrive at maturity, his remarkable ingenuity 
would lead to important and valuable inventions 
and discoveries. The prophecy was literally fulfilled'. 

Among his most important inventions, are the 
following : — a machine for making pins, one for 
making combs, one for pressing bonnets, one for 
braiding straw — which he never completed, and one 
for trimming straw — from which he never realized 
any pecuniary benefit, on account of his extreme 
communicativeness ; in consequence of which, oth- 
ers taking advantage of this weakness — as is too 
often the case — availed themselves of the benefits of 
Jhis invention. 


BIRTHDAY GIFT 


123 

I have been informed by a practical machinist, 
that a number of years since, he examined a ma- 
chine built by Mr. Smith for the late Pliny Earle & 
Brothers of Leicester, Mass., about the year 181 2 - 
And he says, “the permanency of construction and 
beauty of finish, would do credit to a machinist 
with a sett of tools of the latest improvements.” 
Mr. Smith’s tools were all of the simplest kind. 
The said machine was for making card teeth to be 
set into leather by hand. The late Jonah Earle, one 
of the firm, stated they were in great want of it, 
and Mr. Smith went to Walpole to remain until it 
was finished. He found Mrs. Smith’s health very 
poor, and he acted in the capacity of nurse, maid 
and shopmate until the machine was completed. 

He invented a machine for cutting and heading 
card tacks. From this machine originated the ma- 
chinery for making cut nails, which is now in gen- 
eral use. This invention, although so simple in 
itself, has in all probability been of as much benefi t 
to the public, as the far famed Fulton invention, on 
account of the large quantity of cut nails used, 
which are better for most purposes and are much 
less expensive than those previously employed. 
There is scarcely an article constructed of wood, in 
which cut nails are not more or less required. 

He was also the inventor of the machine for ma ■ 


124 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


king and setting card teetli into leather, which I 
suppose is called his greatest invention. At that 
time, the idea of such a machine being made to op- 
erate successfully, was almost universally considered 
ridiculous. The knowing ones prophecied that he 
would certainly fail in this undertaking. But in 
spite of opposition and ridicule, he was confident 
that it could be done, and he determined to do it, — 
for, said he, “I can see right through it ; I can see 
how every' part will move.” While he was en- 
gaged upon this machine, it is said, his mind was so 
concentrated upon it, that he would spend whole 
days and nights in succession, in his shop, not 
taking the least notice of any person present, and 
scarcely allowing himself time to eat, until his mind 
became so overtasked that he might be considered 
partially insane. After such intense application, 
being completely exhausted, he would leave his 
shop and visit his neighbors ; some of w r hom would 
treat him well, lend a listening ear, and speak an 
encouraging word. At such times, if any mani- 
fested an interest in his inventions, he would con- 
verse earnestly and fluently, freely communicating 
his ideas and plans. 

Being of an honest, frank and candid disposition, 
(and judging the world by himself) he suspected 
no treachery in others. But, alas ! in his judgment, 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 125 

here he greatly erred. Spending so much of his 
time in his shop in the din and whirl of machinery, 
he was but little versed in human nature, and knew 
not the •windings and intricacies of the human 
heart, but supposed every one who greeted him 
cordially with pleasant smiles to be friendly to him 
and his interests. It is believed that none of his 
townsmen ever availed themselves dishonorably of 
his inventions. 

While engaged upon the card setting machine, he 
stated that he was visited occasionally by a stranger, 
who appeared to be a traveler. The stranger being 
inclined to be sociable, with his usual unsuspecting 
frankness, he communicated his plans, not suppos- 
ing that the stranger took any particular interest 
in them. 

After great study and labor, with very limited 
means, he succeeded in making his machine prick 
the leather, make the teeth, and set them in strait. 
At this period he was again visited by the stranger, 
to whom he communicated his whole plan for ma- 
king the second bend to the teeth, which would 
complete his invention. But before he had time to 
complete his machine, Letters Patent from the Uni- 
ted States w r ere granted to another individual. 
The stranger, it afterwards appeared, was a mechan- 
ic in disguise, employed by the patentee to obtain 


126 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


the information necessary to enable him to con- 
struct a similar machine, and obtain the patent 
right. The mechanic probably never received 
much pecuniary benefit from it himself. Mr. Smith 
at the time, said considerable about defending his 
rights, but the patent laws being at that time very 
.imperfect, and but little understood in his vicinity, 
he was unable to obtain pecuniary assistance, and 
therefore was obliged to -abandon the attempt. 

This was an overwhelming blow, from which he 
never fully recovered. He never appeared to be 
the same person afterwards. Every hope was 
crushed, and every prospect blighted. He had 
spent his whole life in deep study and uncomplain- 
ing poverty, expecting to reap the benefit of his 
inventions; when, the most important of these, 
were violently wrested from him by those he con- 
sidered his friends ; men of wealth, influence and 
high standing in society, who appropriated them to 
their own pecuniary benefit, while he was left to 
suffer the stings of poverty, uncared for, and unno- 
ticed. There was, however, some talk at one peri- 
od of raising money for his assistance in his last 
days, but this act of justice, rather than benevo- 
lence, was never carried into effect. 

Mr Smith was considered by his acquaintances a 
very eccentric man ; but many of his acts of eccen- 


EIKTHDAY GIFT. 


127 


tricity ought more properly to be attributed to a de- 
ranged state of mind. For who in a sane state of 
mind, would pass along the street in the dead of 
night, throwing stones in every direction, as he was 
sometimes known to do, paying no attention' to, or 
appearing to perceive any one who endeavored to 
persuade him to discontinue this singular pastime, 
after his mind had been overtasked by too intense 
application to his favorite studies. 

His house was situated in a very secluded spot, 
and he spent his last days entirely alone ; his 
wife having died some years previous, and his chil- 
dren being scattered abroad. Mr Smith died in 
Walpole, in March 1836, in the eighty second year 
of his age. In a small country graveyard, where the 
rush of water and the din and rattle of machinery 
falls distinctly upon the ear, and but a short dis- 
tance from a building in which twenty machines 
(his greatest invention) are in successful operation, 
rests the remains of this great mechanic, unmarked 
by mound or column. There are but few of his 
townsmen who can direct a stranger to the spot 
where he lies. There was some talk a few years 
Bince in England and in this country of erecting a 
monument over his grave ; but it has never been 
done. But measures will soon be taken to accom- 
.plish this desirable object. 


128 


BIRTHDAY GIFT. 


Sleep on, poor old man ! although in thy litetim . 
thou wert unhonored, and at thy death unwept 
there are those -who can appreciate thy worth, an : 
will do justice to thy memory ! 

Manufacturers ! you who have realized so largely 
the benefits of his ingenious mind, can you allow h 
dust to remain thus unhonored ? Can 


any, wb :• 

have received benefit from any of his numerous ii 
ventions, remain neutral in this matter ? Assi • 




redly not ! Arise, then, and render “honor 
whom honor is due !” Let an appropriate and sub - 
stantial monument be erected over his grave, whic 
shall speak to the passing stranger of the worb. 
of one on whom nature lavished some of 


choicest gifts ! 




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